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THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

A  Story  of  the  Time  of  Custer      , 


"INDIAN"   STORIES 
WITH  HISTORICAL  BASES 

By  D.   LANGE 

12mo     Cloth     Illustrated 

ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  SIOUX 

THE  SILVER  ISLAND  OF  THE 
CHIPPEWA 

LOST  IN  THE  FUR  COUNTRY 

IN  THE  GREAT  WILD  NORTH 

THE  LURE  OF  THE  BLACK  HILLS 

THE  LURE  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI 

THE  SILVER  CACHE  OF  THE  PAWNEE 

THE  SHAWNEE'S  WARNING 

THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 


LOTHROP,  LEE  &  SHEPARD  CO.,  BOSTON 


Joe  bushed  at  the  Sioux. — Page  80. 


THE  THREAT  OF 
SITTING  BULL 

A  STORY  OF  THE  TIME  OF  CUSTER 

BY 

D.    LANGE 

AUTHOR  OF  "ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  SIOUX,"    '*  THE  SILVER 

ISLAND  OF  THE  CHIPPEWA,"    "  THE  SILVER  CACHE  OF 

THE  PAWNEE,"  .''THE  SHAWNEE'S  WARNING,"  ETC. 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  CHARLES  E.  MEJSTER 


BOSTON 
LOTHROP,  LEE   &    SHEPARD    CO. 


Published,  November,  1920 


Copyright^.  1920^    . 
,  '  .'By  D^. Lange'  \. 


I'Hg'  X)^eat}of  ^ittiri^'iSall 


IRorwooO  press 

BERWICK  &  SMITH  CO. 

Norwood,  Mass. 

U.  S.  A. 


L  2  7v 


FOREWORD 

The  Sioux,  or  Dakotas,  were  the  largest 
and  most  warlike  nation  of  the  northern 
Plains  Indians. 

Originally  friendly  to  the  whites,  they  be- 
came restless  and  even  hostile  before  the 
beginning  of  the  Civil  War,  when  white  set- 
tlers began  to  encroach  upon  their  fertile 
lands  in  Iowa  and  Minnesota. 

When  in  1862  only  a  few  regulars  were 
left  at  the  frontier  posts,  and  when  thou- 
sands of  young  farmers  and  men  in  the 
to^^Tis  had  been  called  east,  the  Sioux,  under 
Little  Crow,  attempted  to  regain  all  their 
lands  west  of  the  Mississippi.  About  800 
white  people  were  killed  in  this  outbreak. 

This  was  the  first  of  a  series  of  wars  \^dth 
the  Sioux,  which  culminated  in  the  cam- 
paigns against  the  Western  Sioux  in  1876. 

The  most  famous  battle  in  all  our  Indian 
wars  was  fought  between  United  States  sol- 
diers, under  General  Custer,  and  the  brave 

7 

'^68 


S  FOEEWORD 

Sioux  warriors  on  the  Little  Big  Horn  in 
Montana  on  June  25th,  1876. 

The  different  tribes  of  Sioux  are  now  liv- 
ing peaceably  on  reservations  in  the  two 
Dakotas  and  Montana,  with  some  as  farmers 
in  Minnesota.  The  total  number  at  present 
is  about  28,000. 

The  extermination  of  the  buffaloes  com- 
pelled all  the  Plains  Indians  to  travel  the 
"  white  man's  road." 

Our  present  story  plays  in  the  stirring 
years  of  1875  and  1876.  There  were  still 
many  buffaloes,  elk,  bighorn,  and  antelopes 
west  of  the  Missouri,  but  the  Northern 
Pacific  Railroad  had  already  reached  the 
Missouri,  while  steamboats  ran  up  this  river 
as  far  as  Fort  Benton  in  the  present  State  of 
Montana. 

In  the  battles  fought  against  Generals 

Crook,  Custer,  and  Miles,  the  Sioux  made  a 

last  desperate  attempt  to  stem  the  invading 

tide  of  the  white  race. 

D.  Lange. 

St.  Paul,  Minnesota, 
June,  1920. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I. 

Sioux  Scouts       .... 

13 

II. 

Horses  and  Indians    . 

20 

III. 

Unguarded  Mules 

30 

IV. 

Are  You  Game  ?          .        .        . 

40 

V. 

The  Dispute       .        .        .        . 

4S 

VI. 

The  Wit.d  Plains 

53 

VII. 

At  Bay 

63 

VIII. 

A  Terrible  Day 

72 

IX. 

Minnewaukan     .        .         .         . 

85 

X. 

A  Bad  Night 

.      95 

XI. 

The  Temptation 

.     115 

XII. 

Cactus  Pete 

.     122 

XIII. 

Worse  Prospects 

.     129 

XIV. 

Joe  in  Trouble    . 

.     137 

XV. 

Don  at  the  Doctor's 

.     143 

XVI. 

Winged  Millions 

.     152 

XVII. 

The  Long  Red  Snake 

.     163 

XVIII. 

GUACALOTE  .          .          .          • 

.     174 

XIX. 

The  Blizzard 

.     187 

XX. 

The  Wagon-Box  Fight 

.     195 

XXI. 

Strange  Horse-Feed  . 
9 

.     214 

10 

CONTENTS 

XXII. 

Unseen  Danger  . 

222 

XXIII. 

Scouting  for  Indians 

.     234 

XXIV. 

The  Mountain  on  Fire 

.     244 

XXV. 

Dangerous  Neighbors 

263 

XXVI. 

The  Messengers 

277 

XXVII. 

Indians  and  Soldiers 

289 

XXVIII. 

Sharp  Eyes          .         .         .         . 

299 

XXIX. 

The  Lost  Treasure    . 

313 

XXX. 

Too  Many  Trails 

326 

XXXI. 

Talk  or  Shoot  ?  . 

.     332 

XXXII. 

Caught  in  the  Open    . 

•     348 

XXXIII. 

To  the  Little  Big  Horn    . 

.     354 

ILLUSTRATIONS 

Joe  rushed  at  the  Sioux.     (Page  80)         .     Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

Every  minute  the  wild  uproar  grew  wilder     .  .108 

Hank  and  Don  were   proud   boys,    indeed,  when 

they  rode  back  to  camp         .         .         .         .224 

<<It  was    the    best    chance    I  ever   had   at   any 

Indians ".......     274 

*'  My  tin  box  with  the  greenbacks  for  Father  is 

gone!" 320 

They  were   at   his   side  as  quickly  as  the  horses 

could  carry  them 352 


11 


The  Threat  of  Sitting  Bull 


CHAPTER  I 

SIOUX  SCOUTS 

Washita  Joe  and  his  two  boy  companions 
had  at  last  reached  the  border  of  the  Sioux 
country. 

The  first  Northern  Pacific  train  of  the 
spring  of  1875  had  just  arrived  at  Bismarck 
on  the  Missouri,  and  Washita  Joe,  with 
Hank  Stamford  and  his  younger  brother 
Don,  had  at  once  hurried  to  the  bank  of  the 
great  river. 

"Look,  Joe,  look!"  exclaimed  Don, 
"  there  are  tAvo  Indians  on  horseback  on  the 
prairie  beyond  the  river!  Who  are  they? 
What  are  they  looking  for?  " 

"  Sioux  scouts.     Scouts  of  Sitting  Bull," 

replied  Joe  without  hesitation.    "  They  have 

come  to  see  if  the  train  brought  anv  more 

13 


14     tHE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

'  long  knives  '  and  surveyors  to  push  the  rail- 
road into  their  country  across  the  Missouri. 

"A  few  years  ago  the  Union  Pacific  was 
built  across  the  buffalo  plains  of  the  west- 
ern Indians,  and  now  the  Northern  Pacific 
is  projected  across  the  buffalo  range  of  the 
Sioux  nation  in  direct  violation  of  the  treaty 
of  1868;  and  the  Sioux  object. 

"  You  remember  what  the  officer  on  the 
train  told  of  Sitting  Bull's  threat:  '  If  the 
railroad  is  built,  my  people  will  fight.'  He 
has  boldly  told  the  soldiers  and  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  government,  and  I  think 
Sitting  Bull  and  the  other  Sioux  chiefs, 
Crazy  Horse,  Gall,  and  others,  meant  what 
they  said. 

"  Within  a  few  days  all  the  Sioux  and 
Cheyennes  between  the  Missouri  and  Rocky 
Mountains  will  know  that  the  '  fire  wagons  ' 
are  running  again  to  the  Missouri  River,  and 
their  scouts  will  watch  every  move  of  the 
surveyors  west  of  the  Missouri.  And  they 
will  report  the  doings  of  the  soldiers  at  Fort 
Lincoln  on  this  river  near  Bismarck,  of  Gen- 
eral Crook  at  Fort  Fetterman  on  the  Platte, 


SIOUX  SCOUTS  15 

and  of  Colonel  Gibbon  at  Fort  Ellis  out 
west  on  the  Yellowstone. 

"  Well,  boys,  let  us  go  back  to  town.  I 
suppose  your  appetite  is  ready  for  a  good 
supper.  To-night  we'll  have  a  long  sleep  in 
a  bed  that  is  not  shaken  by  a  rumbling  train. 
To-morrow  we  must  buy  horses  for  our  long- 
trip  to  Bozeman,  Montana.  It  will  be  a 
great  trip  of  a  thousand  miles  across  these 
northern  plains.  Boys,  I  am  happy  to  see 
the  plains  once  more.  Right  glad  I  am  that 
I  did  not  buy  that  little  store  in  Boston." 

"Will  the  Indians  let  us  get  through?" 
asked  Hank  with  some  misgivings.  "  The 
three  of  us  couldn't  fight  very  many  Sioux." 

The  two  scouts  had  by  this  time  increased 
to  five,  and  like  threatening  outposts,  they 
stood  silhouetted  against  the  western  sky. 

"  No,  we  cannot  play  the  game  the  way 
we  did  with  Custer  on  the  Washita.  They 
would  get  our  hair  in  no  time.  We  shall 
have  to  play  the  game  Indian  fashion. 

"  But  come  along,  boys.  Let  us  find  a 
hotel,  and  after  supper  I  shall  do  a  little 
scouting  in  town.     ]Maybe  the  Sioux  are  not 


16     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

so  warlike  as  the  officers  on  the  train  told  us. 
Perhaps  they  will  not  trouble  us,  when  they 
see  we  are  not  soldiers  or  surveyors." 

"  DoLi't  you  think  there  may  be  a  thou- 
sand Indians  just  behind  the  hills? "  asked 
Don.  "  These  five  alone  would  not  ride  out 
whei'e  the  soldiers  might  catch  them." 

"No,  Don,"  Joe  replied  with  a  smile, 
"  these  scouts  are  not  afraid  of  the  soldiers, 
who  might  as  well  try  to  catch  so  many  ante- 
lopes. The  Indians  would  scatter  and  dis- 
appear into  the  broken  country  and  wooded 
ravines,  where  the  soldiers  would  not  dare  to 
follow." 

"  But,  you  caught  the  Cheyennes  on  the 
Washita,"  objected  Hank. 

"  That  was  different,"  explained  Joe; 
"  Custer  did  something  that  had  never  been 
done  before.  He  made  a  rapid  march 
against  their  camp  in  midwinter,  and  took 
them  completely  by  surprise;  but  in  spite  of 
that,  they  fought  bravely. 

"  Some  of  us  were  pretty  well  scared, 
when  we  discovered  that  there  were  several 
other  large  camps  on  the  Washita  River  be- 


SIOUX  SCOUTS  17 

low  the  camp  of  the  Cheyennes.  Almost 
any  other  man  would  have  lost  his  head,  but 
Custer  didn't.  He  is  a  great  Indian  fighter. 
When  he  saw  the  danger,  he  ordered  the 
band  to  strike  up  our  favorite  tune  of 
'  Garry  Owen,'  and  we  all  fell  in  and  rode 
boldly  forward  toward  the  next  camp. 
That  bold  move  umierved  the  Comanche, 
Kiowa,  and  Arapaho  warriors,  and  j^ou 
should  have  seen  them  run!  They  thought 
we  were  only  the  advance  guard  of  a  big 
army.  Had  they  known  that  we  were  only 
a  few  hundred  all  told,  they  could  have '^ 
wiped  us  out. 

"  But  I  fear  Custer  will  never  catch  the 
Sioux  in  that  manner.  They  are  too  wary. 
They  are  also  well  armed  and  are  the  most 
numerous  and  the  bravest  of  all  American 
Indians. 

"  If  all  their  warriors  joined  the  hos tiles, 
then  Sitting  Bull,  Crazy  Horse,  and  Gall 
might  have  an  army  of  five  thousand  fight- 
ing men." 

The  three  walked  along  in  silence,  and 
Hank  wondered  if  Uncle  Reuben  in  Boston 


18    THE  THKEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

would  have  let  them  go,  if  Joe  had  told  him 
about  the  formidable  strength  of  the  Sioux. 
But  Joe  had  not  deceived  Uncle  Reuben,  for 
much  of  this  information  about  the  hostile 
attitude  of  the  Sioux  he  had  gathered  from 
civilians  and  officers  on  the  train  between 
St.  Paul  and  Bismarck. 

Suddenly  a  thundering  boom  rolled  up 
the  river  from  Fort  Lincoln,  three  miles 
below. 

"  Listen,"  exclaimed  Don  with  a  startled 
face.  "Listen!  The  Indians  and  the  sol- 
diers are  fighting  now!  The  soldiers  are 
shooting  at  them  with  a  cannon." 

"  No,  no,  Don!  "  Joe  quieted  the  excitable 
boy.  "  I  should  not  have  told  you  all  this 
about  the  Sioux.  That  is  no  battle  gun  we 
heard  just  now.  It  is  only  the  peaceful  sun- 
set gun  of  Fort  Lincoln.  It  means  that  the 
soldiers  are  through  with  their  day's  work. 

"  Let  us  go  in  here  for  supper.  It  looks 
like  a  good  place.  You  don't  need  to  worry 
about  fighting  Indians  just  yet." 

Boiled  buffalo  tongue  and  a  roast  of  fat 
buffalo  tenderloin  with  browned  potatoes 


SIOUX  SCOUTS  19 

made  Joe  and  his  boys  feel  drowsy,  and  all 
three  of  them  went  to  bed  early,  Joe  saying 
that  he  would  find  out  the  next  day  what  had 
happened  around  Fort  Lincoln  and  in  the 
Sioux  country  during  the  winter. 


CHAPTER  II 

HORSES  AND  INDIANS  ' 

Washita  Joe  was  not  a  novice  on  the 
plains  and  in  the  Indian  country.  He  had 
served  some  time  with  the  garrison  at  Fort 
Totten  on  Devil's  Lake  in  the  present  State 
of  North  Dakota.  He  had  then  been  trans- 
ferred to  the  famous  Seventh  United  States 
Cavalry  and  had  been  with  Custer  in  the 
great  battle  on  the  Washita  River  in  the 
present  State  of  Oklahoma. 

In  this  fight  Custer  surprised  and  de- 
feated Chief  Black  Kettle's  band  of  the 
southern  Cheyennes  so  severely  that  all  the 
tribes  in  that  region  learned  to  respect  the 
United  States  Government  and  to  fear 
Chief  Long- Yellow-Hair  and  his  cavalry. 
The  great  fight  took  place  late  in  November 
of  1868.     When,   some  years  later,   Joe's 

term  of  enlistment  expired,  he  returned  to 

20 


HORSES  A^^D  LN^DIA^S^S  21 

his  home  town  of  Boston.  He  had  told  the 
men  of  the  regiment  that  he  had  seen  enough 
of  Indians  and  adventure  and  intended  to 
settle  down. 

At  the  end  of  two  years  he  was  convinced 
that  he  could  never  be  happy  again  in  the 
East,  and  was  glad  to  escort  the  two  Stam- 
ford lads  to  their  father,  who  had  established 
himself  in  business  at  Bozeman  in  the  pres- 
ent State  of  ]Montana. 

The  Stamford  boys  had  gro^TO  up  in  the 
family  of  an  uncle,  their  mother  having  died 
when  the  boys  were  very  young. 

The  lads  carried  with  them  some  impor- 
tant papers  and  $10,000  in  greenbacks, 
which  Stamford's  Boston  partners  wished  to 
send  to  Bozeman.  The  papers  and  the 
greenbacks  were  soldered  up  in  a  tin  box, 
which  Hank  generally  carried  on  his  person. 

When  Washita  Joe  was  stationed  at  Fort 
Totten,  he  heard  much  of  Henry  Plummer 
and  his  gang  of  white  robbers  and  cut- 
throats who  murdered  the  lone  miners  for 
their  gold  dust,  and  committed  hold-ups  and 
murders  on  the  sta^e-coach  routes  between 


22     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Western  Montana  and  the  Union  Pacific 
Railway,  Denver,  and  Salt  Lake  City  to  the 
south. 

Later,  while  with  Custer  in  the  Seventh 
Cavalry,  he,  like  all  the  soldiers  on  the 
plains,  heard  and  read  many  tales  of  the  in- 
cessant fighting  along  the  old  Bozeman 
Trail  between  Fort  Laramie  and  Bozeman. 
At  Fort  Phil  Kearney,  on  this  road,  there 
was  constant  fighting,  and  every  soldier  on 
the  plains  in  those  days  knew  the  story  of  the 
terrible  fight  in  the  Wagon-Box  Corral  near 
Fort  Phil  Kearney.  This  fort  and  others 
along  the  trail  had  now  been  abandoned,  and 
the  Bozeman  Trail  was  closed  by  the  hostile 
Sioux,  who  threatened  to  kill  every  white 
man  that  dared  to  enter  their  country. 

It  was  for  these  reasons  that  Joe  had 
chosen  a  northern  route  to  reach  Bozeman. 

"  I  know  Indians  and  know  the  northern 
plains,"  he  had  told  Uncle  Reuben,  when  he 
and  that  gentleman  were  discussing  routes, 
"  but  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  being  held  up 
and  murdered  by  white  cutthroats  and  road- 
agents;  though  I  guess  the  Vigilantes  have 


HOKSES  AKD  IISTDIANS  23 

caught  and  hanged  most  of  them  by  this 
time." 

And  now  Joe  and  his  two  wards  had 
reached  Bismarck,  which  was  at  that  time 
the  western  terminal  of  the  Northern  Pacific 
Railway. 

"  If  I  live,"  Joe  had  told  Uncle  Reuben, 
"  I  will  take  the  boys  through  and  deliver 
them  and  their  tin  box  safely  to  their  father 
at  Bozeman." 

The  boys  would  not  listen  at  all  to  going 
into  INIontana  by  railway  and  stage  routes, 
after  Joe  had  told  them  that  they  might  go 
on  horseback,  by  way  of  the  northern  plains, 
and  that  on  this  route  they  would  surely  see 
real  living  wild  buffaloes,  antelope,  moun- 
tain sheep,  deer  and  elk,  and  wild  Indians; 
not  the  kind  of  which  there  were  a  few  strag- 
glers still  in  New  England,  or  the  kind  that 
Cooper  tells  about,  but  the  real  wild  kind, 
which  Joe  had  fought  on  the  Washita. 

Under  promise  of  strict  secrecy,  Joe  had 
shown  the  boys  a  scalp,  a  real  Indian  scalp, 
which  he  Had  brought  as  a  trophy  from  the 
campaign.    How  he  had  come  by  it  he  would 


24    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

not  tell,  but  Don  was  sure  that  it  was  the 
scalp  of  Chief  Black  Kettle,  whom  Joe  had 
killed  in  a  hand-to-hand  fight. 

There  was  no  holding  the  boys  after  this. 
They  induced  Uncle  Reuben  to  let  them 
take  riding  lessons  and  to  let  them  go  to  the 
rooms  of  a  gun  club  for  rifle  and  revolver 
practice.  So  eagerly  did  they  enter  into  this 
line  of  schooling  that  even  Joe  was  surprised 
to  see  how  quickly  they  learned  to  handle 
both  horses  and  guns. 

The  masters  in  the  old  Roxbury  Latin 
School,  which  the  lads  attended,  could  at 
first  not  understand  why  the  bright  Stam- 
ford lads  had  suddenly  become  so  dull  in 
Greek  and  Latin. 

"  That  stuff  won't  do  us  any  good  on  the 
plains,"  Don  protested,  when  the  more  con- 
scientious Hank  urged  him  to  study.  "  I 
want  to  learn  Sioux;  that  may  save  our 
lives." 

The  boys  had  already  learned  the  few 
Sioux  words  and  phrases  which  Joe  remem- 
bered, and  now  they  had  borrowed  at  the 
Public  Library  a  Sioux  dictionary^  which  the 


HOKSES  AND  INDIANS  25 

Rev.  Stephen  R.  Riggs,  missionary  among 
the  Sioux  in  Minnesota,  had  published  some 
twenty  years  before  in  one  of  those  formi- 
dable-looking Smithsonian  Contributions  to 
Knowledge. 

"  Hank,  we  can  learn  a  lot  of  that  by 
heart,"  urged  Don.  "  Joe  can  pick  out  the 
words  we  need  to  know.  Sioux  words  are 
not  half  so  hard  as  the  beastly  Greek  verbs." 

"Are  you  going  to  be  a  missionary,  little 
boy? "  a  mild-looking  lady  had  asked  Don, 
when  he  called  for  the  big  book  at  the  Boston 
Public  Library. 

"No,  ma'am,"  Don  had  answered  proudly, 
"  I'm  going  to  enlist  in  the  United  States 
Cavalry  of  Chief  Long- Yellow-Hair,  as  soon 
as  I'm  old  enough." 

Before  Joe  and  his  wards  left  Boston, 
Don  had  promised  to  send  a  real  Indian 
scalp  to  seven  of  his  boy  friends,  and  Hank 
had  vowed  to  write  to  Rachel  Burnham  and 
send  her  a  pair  of  beaded  moccasins. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  Don  awoke  in 
the  hotel  at  Bismarck. 


26    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Hank,  get  up! "  he  called.  "  We  have 
to  help  Joe  buy  horses  and  pack  our  stuff," 

By  the  time  the  lads  had  eaten  their  break- 
fast, Joe  had  already  made  the  rounds  of  all 
the  livery  barns  and  sales  stables  in  town, 
and  had  taken  a  look  at  a  hundred  horses. 

**  There  is  a  fine  white  mare,"  Don  pointed 
out  as  they  looked  at  a  herd  of  ponies  and 
ranch  horses  in  an  open  corral.  "  Buy  that 
mare  for  me,  Joe,"  he  whispered,  "  if  she  is 
not  over  a  hundred  dollars !  " 

"  That  mare?  "  Joe  asked  with  a  friendly 
laugh.  *'  Don,  I  wouldn't  take  her  as  a 
gift-!" 

"  Why  wouldn't  you?  I  feel  sure  that 
she  is  a  fine  saddle-horse.  She  is  built  just 
like  the  finest  horses  in  the  riding-school." 

"  Yes,  she  is  built  all  right,"  Joe  admitted. 
"  But  she  is  white,  and  she  is  a  grain  horse. 
We  take  nothing  but  bays,  and  blacks  or 
very  dark  grays.  No  whites  or  calicoes; 
and  they  must  all  be  grass  horses. 

"An  Indian  would  see  a  white  or  calico 
horse  ten  miles  off,"  Joe  explained.  "And 
we  can  use  nothing  but  grass  horses,  animals 


HORSES  AND  INDIANS  21 

that  are  used  to  pick  their  feed  at  night,  be- 
cause we  cannot  carry  oats  or  corn." 

It  took  Joe  the  better  part  of  the  day  to 
select  six  horses,  three  for  saddle-horses,  and 
three  for  packers  and  extras. 

"They  are  sure  a  scrawny-looking  bunch," 
remarked  Don,  as  they  took  the  troop  out  on 
the  road  to  try  them  out.  "  Our  ridmg- 
master  would  call  them  ghosts.  Believe  me, 
Hank,  they  will  play  out  before  we  get  five 
miles  out  of  town." 

But  Don  soon  changed  his  mind.  They 
were  all  good  travellers,  they  were  not  afraid 
of  water,  none  of  them  was  gun-shy,  and  Joe 
said  they  were  all  trained  buffalo-hunters. 
Although  the  men  rode  them  hard  for  about 
twelve  miles,  not  one  of  them  showed  a  wet 
hair  on  his  body. 

"  Don't  we  want  a  good  hunting  dog? " 
suggested  Hank. 

"  I  don't  know,  boys,"  Joe  answered. 
"  He  is  likely  to  make  us  more  trouble  than 
he  is  worth.  He  is  pretty  sure  to  get  his 
feet  full  of  cactus  spines,  and  we  shall  not 
need  a  dog  to  find  game.     On  the  other 


28    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

hand,  if  he  barks  or  starts  to  run  game,  he 
will  betray  us  to  any  roving  war  party  of 
Indians;  so  I  think  we  had  better  do  without 
him." 

"  But  Long- Yellow-Hair  always  takes 
hunting  dogs  with  him,"  argued  Don. 
"  You  told  us  yourself." 

"  I  know  he  does,"  Joe  admitted.  "  But 
you  must  remember  that  Custer  has  a  regi- 
ment of  cavalry  with  him.  He  does  not 
have  to  be  afraid  of  small  Indian  war  parties, 
but  we  are  likely  to  have  trouble  enough  with 
the  rascals  as  it  is. 

"  I  hear  that  the  whole  tribe  is  in  a  very 
ugly  mood,  and  most  of  the  young  warriors 
are  openly  hostile.  Two  of  their  big  war 
chiefs,  Crazy  Horse  and  Gall,  would  not 
even  sign  the  treaty  of  1868." 

"Crazy  Horse!"  remarked  Hank. 
"  What  queer  names  the  Indians  have." 

"  They  do  sound  strange,"  replied  Joe, 
"  but  they  always  have  a  meaning.  The 
whites  often  mistranslate  the  names.  Crazy 
Horse  should  really  be  Wild  Horse. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  Sitting  Bull,  Rain- 


HOESES  AND  INDIANS  29 

in-the-Face,  Black  Moon,  and  Two  Strikes 
all  refer  to  some  incident,  which  the  Indians 
remember  and  understand." 

"Did  the  Indians  give  you  a  name?" 
asked  Don. 

"Yes,  they  did,"  Joe  told  laughing. 
"  You  have  noticed  the  scar  on  my  forehead. 
The  incident  that  gave  me  the  scar  also 
earned  me  a  new  name.  One  of  the  boys  in 
my  company  had  gotten  the  best  of  me  in  a 
horse  deal  by  trading  a  wild,  hard-mouthed 
animal  off  on  me.  One  day  in  the  presence 
of  our  Indian  scouts  and  some  Kiowa  pris- 
oners, the  beast  suddenly  shied  at  something, 
and  threw  me,  and  I  landed  with  my  head  on 
a  rock.  When  I  scrambled  to  my  feet,  half 
dazed  and  with  the  blood  running  over  my 
face,  the  rascals  all  roared.  If  one  is  not 
killed  or  badly  hurt,  Indians  as  well  as  sol- 
diers show  no  mercy  to  a  man,  who  has  met 
a  mishap. 

"*He-Knocks-His-Head!'  one  of  them 
called  out,  and  after  that  they  never  called 
me  by  any  other  name." 


CHAPTER  III 

UNGUARDED  MULES 

The  boys  were  impatient  to  start,  but  Joe 
was  in  no  hurry  to  get  away.  He  said  he 
thought  he  wanted  to  get  a  little  more  in- 
formation about  his  Sioux  friends.  The 
boys  might  get  on  their  horses,  and  put  in 
the  day  visiting  Fort  Lincoln.  But  he  ad- 
vised them  to  look  sharp  about,  and  they 
must  get  back  in  daylight. 

What  Joe  learned  that  day  did  not  add  to 
his  peace  of  mind. 

He  talked  very  little  while  he  had  supper 
with  his  boys,  and  seemed  but  little  inter- 
ested in  the  many  strange  things  which  the 
boys  had  seen  at  Fort  Lincoln. 

It  was  not  till  all  three  had  gone  to  their 
rooms  and  Joe  had  lit  his  pipe  that  he  be- 
gan to  talk  freely. 

"  I  am  afraid,  boys,"  he  started,  "  we  are 

in  for  a  hot  trip.     In  fact,  I  don't  know  if 

30 


UNGUARDED  MULES  31 

we  ought  to  go  on.  It  kind  of  looks  to  me 
as  if  we  had  better  go  back  to  St.  Paul  and 
then  try  that  stage  route  from  the  Union 
Pacific  after  all." 

"  Have  the  Sioux  gone  to  war?  Won't 
they  let  us  get  thr  'Ugh?  "  the  boj^s  asked. 

"  No,  they  have  not  exactly  gone  to  war," 
Joe  explained  after  a  brief  silence,  "  because 
no  troops  or  surveyors  have  yet  entered 
their  country  this  spring;  but  they  have  been 
fighting  the  soldiers  and  all  white  men  dur- 
ing the  last  two  years. 

"And  the  worst  of  it  is  that  the  Indians 
are  within  their  rights,  and  they  know  it. 
Soldiers  and  railroad  surveyors  and  pros- 
pectors have  no  right  to  be  in  the  Sioux 
country  under  the  treaty  of  1868.  I  do  not 
understand  why  President  Grant  does  not 
see  that.  I  think  the  country  is  in  for  the 
worst  Indian  war  in  our  history."  And  Joe 
smoked  for  a  while  in  glum  silence. 

"  Where  will  the  war  be? "  Hank  asked, 
frying  to  understand  just  what  Joe  had  in 
mind. 

"  It  makes  me  mad,"  Joe  resumed  his 


32     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

story,  "  the  way  the  Indian  Department  and 
the  whole  government  is  muddling  things. 
It  is  a  plain  rotten  outrage.  Treaties  are 
not  kept,  the  soldiers  are  sent  here  and  there, 
and  the  Indian  agents  sell  to  the  angry  In- 
dians all  the  guns  and  ammunition  they 
want.  When  the  crash  comes,  those  In- 
dians will  be  better  armed  than  the  soldiers. 
Grant  was  a  good  soldier,  but  a  lot  of  greedy 
politicians  are  too  much  for  him.  Well,  it's 
no  use.  The  more  I  think  and  talk  about 
it,  the  madder  I  get." 

"I  don't  understand  just  what  you  mean," 
Hank  remarked. 

"  I'll  try,  boys,  to  make  it  clear  to  you," 
Joe  continued,  almost  breaking  his  pipe  as 

he   knocked   out   the   ashes.     "  It's  a 

Well,  it's  a  rotten  shame!  But  I  will  make 
the  story  short. 

"  General  Stanley  and  Custer  were  sent 
in  here — I  mean  into  the  Sioux  country  in 
'73,  that  is,  two  years  ago.  They  marched 
after  the  Indians  up  the  Yellowstone  River 
as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the  Big  Horn.  They 
had  some  skirmishes  with  the  Indians.     A 


UNGUARDED  MULES  33 

few  soldiers  were  killed  and  wounded,  and, 
no  doubt,  a  few  Indians  were  killed.  Then 
the  Indians  withdrew  into  the  wild  country- 
south  of  the  Yellowstone,  and  the  soldiers 
marched  back  east  to  Stanley's  Stockade  and 
to  Fort  Lincoln. 

"  Then,  last  summer,  that  is,  in  '74,  Gen- 
eral Sheridan  orders  Custer  to  explore  the 
Black  Hills  with  his  cavalry.  Custer,  of 
course,  had  to  go.  He  did  the  job  well  and 
reported  to  the  Secretary  of  War.  The  re- 
sult is  that  thousands  of  gold-seekers  have 
rushed  into  the  Black  Hills. 

"  But  the  bad  mess  of  it  all  is  that  neither 
the  soldiers  nor  the  prospectors  had  any 
right  to  enter  the  Black  Hills.  It  is  Sioux 
country,  reserved  to  them  by  a  solemn 
treaty ! 

"  Now  the  government  is  trying  to  keep 
the  gold-hunters  out,  but  they  can't  do  it. 
It  would  take  the  whole  United  States  army 
to  keep  them  out. 

"  The  Indians,  of  course,  believe  that  the 
white  people  do  not  intend  to  keep  that 
treaty. 


34    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"And  what  has  the  army  accomplished  by 
marching  troops  here  and  there,  and  back 
and  forth  in  the  Indian  country?  They  have 
angered  the  Indians  and  have  made  them 
think  that  they  themselves  are  better  fighters 
than  the  soldiers  and  that  the  soldiers  can't 
catch  them.  Stanley's  campaign  up  the 
Yellowstone  reminds  me  of  the  old  saw: 
*  The  king  of  France  marched  up  the  hill, 
and  then  marched  down  again.' " 

Hank  and  Don  thought  they  understood 
now  what  had  happened  in  the  two  years 
just  passed. 

"And  what  is  going  to  happen  this  sum- 
mer? "  they  asked  after  Joe  had  refilled  his 
pipe. 

"  This  summer? "  Joe  snorted  with  dis- 
gust. "Hang  it,  boys!  This  summer  it 
will  be  some  more  of  the  same  haphazard 
campaigning.  Things  will  grow  worse. 
The  editor  of  the  Bismarck  Tribune  told  me 
that  for  two  years  it  has  not  been  safe  for 
a  man  at  Fort  Lincoln  to  go  a  mile  out- 
side of  the  stockade.  The  garrison  has 
practically     been     besieged,     and     horses 


UNGUAKDED  MULES  35 

and  mules  have  to  be  brought  iii  every 
night." 

Only  one  cheerful  story  he  had  heard  all 
day,  Joe  continued,  puffing  hard  at  his  old 
campaign  pipe,  and  that  wasn't  very  cheer- 
ful to  the  white  men  concerned  in  it. 

"  Yes,  I  will  tell  it  to  you,  boys,"  he  con- 
sented, when  the  lads  asked  to  hear  the  story. 
"  Maybe  it  will  help  me  to  get  over  the 
blues. 

"  Of  course,  you  know  that  the  army  does 
not  use  grass  horses,  though  I  have  often 
thought  every  fort  ought  to  keep  a  bunch 
of  them  or  a  bunch  of  real  Indian  ponies. 

"  Well,  some  young  chap  from  Iowa  se- 
cured a  government  contract  two  years  ago 
to  furnish  the  hay  for  the  cavalry  horses  and 
the  government  mules  at  Fort  Lincoln.  He 
bought  a  lot  of  mules  and  horses,  and  wagons 
and  mowers  to  cut  the  hay  on  the  wild 
prairie,  in  the  river  bottom. 

"  He  was  a  real  tenderfoot,  who  had  never 
been  away  from  his  little  Iowa  town ;  but  one 
of  those  wise  young  fellows  who  know  it 
ail  and  do  not  take  any  advice  and  do  not 


36    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

listen  to  any  warning.  He  started  cutting 
hay,  and  at  night  he  let  his  mules  and  horses 
run  loose  on  the  prairie  without  any  guards. 
He  hadn't  seen  any  Indians.  They  wouldn't 
dare  to  touch  the  property  of  a  United 
States  citizen.  He  and  his  men  would  show 
them,  if  they  got  fresh  around  his  camp. 

"  Well,  one  fine  morning  the  mules  and 
horses  were  gone,  every  last  one  of  them. 

"  The  young  fellow  was  mad  and  wanted 
the  soldiers  to  go  after  the  Indians  and  get 
his  mules  back.  The  commandant  laughed 
at  him,  and  told  him  to  go  himself  and  chase 
his  mules,  or  go  to  any  other  place  if  he  pre- 
ferred. 

"  He  and  his  men  borrowed  some  cavalry 
horses  and  followed  the  trail  for  a  day. 
Next  day  they  came  back,  all  badly  scared, 
with  a  bunch  of  Sioux  hot  on  their  trail,  and 
the  young  fellow  had  an  arrow  sticking  in 
his  back,  so  the  doctor  had  to  cut  it  out  for 
him;  but  they  had  not  seen  a  tail  of  the 
mules.  The  young  fellow  and  his  men  went 
back  to  Iowa  on  the  next  boat,  leaving  their 
wagons  and  mowers  on  the  prairie. 


UNGUARDED  MULES  ST 

"  Next  summer,  a  stranger  came  up  on 
the  first  boat.  One  day  he  told  the  captain 
that  he  was  a  banker,  and  that  he  had  a 
chattel  mortgage  on  those  mules  of  the  hay- 
makers. He  told  the  captain  that  he  had 
written  to  General  Custer  about  his  lost 
mules,  but  Custer  had  not  even  answered 
his  letter.  He  thought  if  it  was  explained 
to  the  Indians  that  he  had  a  chattel  mortgage 
on  the  mules,  the  Indians  would  be  quite 
willing  to  give  them  up. 

"  Captain  Marsh  let  the  fellow  off  at  Fort 
Lincoln,  but  he  did  not  find  anybody  who 
was  willing  to  go  and  explain  to  Sitting 
Bull,  and  Rain-in-the-Face  and  Gall  what  a 
sacred  instrument  a  chattel  mortgage  is. 

"  The  fellow  returned  to  Iowa  in  an  ugly 
mood  and  said  he  was  going  to  report  the  case 
to  President  Grant  and  demand  that  Gen- 
eral Stanley  and  Custer  be  court-martialed. 

"  It  is  the  best  story  I  have  heard  for  a 
long  time,"  Joe  concluded,  "  but  I  can  tell 
you  another  one  that  made  me  laugh. 

"  One  of  the  steamboats  unloaded  a  lot  of 
oats  on  the  banlv  of  the  Yellowstone  for  the 


38    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

cavalry  horses,  but  the  Indians  found  the 
oats,  before  the  soldiers  could  get  it.  Now, 
what  do  you  suppose  they  did  with  them? " 

"  Stole  them  for  their  ponies,"  the  boys 
answered. 

"  No,  they  didn't.  They  stole  the  sacks, 
but  left  the  oats." 

"What  fumiy  things  Indians  do!"  cried 
Don.  "  Why  didn't  they  take  the  oats  for 
their  ponies?  " 

"  Boys,"  the  old  soldier  chuckled,  "  an 
Indian  pony  would  no  more  eat  oats  than  a 
dog  would  eat  hay." 

"  What  does  he  eat?  " 

"  Grass,  of  course.     Nothing  but  grass." 

"  But  what  do  thev  feed  him  in  winter? " 

"  Feed  him?  Indians  never  feed  their 
horses,  and  make  no  hay  for  them." 

"  But  what  can  they  eat  in  winter?  " 

"  This  western  grass  is  good  feed  all  win- 
ter, no  matter  how  dead  and  dry  it  may  look. 
But  if  they  cannot  find  grass,  they  eat 
Cottonwood  bark.  The  Indians  do  cut  down 
some  trees  for  them,  and  that  is  as  near  as  an 
Indian  ever  comes  to  feeding  his  horses. 


UNGUARDED  MULES  39 

"  Let  us  go  to  bed,  boys.  This  western 
air  has  made  me  sleepy.  Maybe  we  had 
better  take  the  next  train  back  to  St.  Paul. 
I  sure  don't  like  the  looks  of  things  around 
here.  I  am  not  much  afraid  of  losing  my 
own  hair,  but  I  feel  that  I  ought  to  see  you 
boys  safe  through  to  Bozeman  or  take  you 
back  to  Boston. 

"  By  next  summer,  maybe,  the  trouble 
will  be  fixed  up  or  Custer  will  have  taught 
the  Sioux  the  same  kind  of  lesson  that  he 
taught  the  Cheyennes  and  Kiowas  and 
Comanches. 

"  Good-night,  boys !  I  roll  in  for  the 
spirit  land." 


CHAPTER  IV, 

ARE  YOU  GAME? 

Next  morning  Joe  declared  he  had  slept 
well,  but  that  the  prospect  for  a  safe  trip 
across  the  plain  did  not  look  any  brighter  to 
him. 

He  always  slept  well  on  the  plains,  he  told 
the  boys.  He  would  sleep  well,  if  he  knew 
he  would  go  into  a  pitched  battle  with  the 
Sioux  next  morning. 

"  There  is  one  big  thing,"  he  asserted,  "  a 
man  learns  in  the  army.  To  go  ahead,  do 
his  duty,  and  not  worry  about  himself.  I 
think  all  of  us  who  rode  with  Custer  to  the 
Washita  were  stoics." 

"Stoics,"  asked  Don.  "What  is  a 
stoic? " 

"  I  don't  know  what  the  dictionary  says 

it  means,  but  I  always  thought  it  meant  a 

man  who  goes  ahead  and  does  his  duty,  no 

matter  what  becomes  of  him. 

40 


ARE  YOU  GAME?  41 

"  Most  of  us  came  back  from  the  Washita, 
except  Major  Elliot  and  fourteen  men  who 
followed  the  fleeing  Indians  too  recklessly." 

Joe  stopped  as  if  lost  m  thought. 

"  What  became  of  them? "  Hank  asked 
with  bated  breath. 

*"  They  were  surrounded  and  died  fighting. 
We  found  their  bodies  and  buried  them  on 
our  second  trip  to  the  Washita." 

"  Why  didn't  the  Indians  take  them 
prisoners? " 

"  Indians  don't  make  prisoners  of  soldiers 
and  fighting  men." 

Later  in  the  day  Joe  and  the  boys  rode  on 
horseback  down  the  east  side  of  the  river  to 
a  trading  post  opposite  Fort  Lincoln.  Old 
Fort  Lincoln  was  located  on  the  west  side  of 
the  Missouri,  three  miles  below  Bismarck. 

The  boys  had  suggested  that  they  cross  on 
the  ferry  at  Bismarck  and  see  what  the  coun- 
try west  of  the  river  looked  like,  but  their 
leader  did  not  fall  in  with  this  plan. 

"  The  country,"  he  told  the  boys,  "  would 
be  interesting  to  scout  around  in  a  bit,  but  I 
fear  we  might  stir  up  some  Indians,  who 


42     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

think  they  have  a  chattel  mortgage  on  our 
horses. 

"  I  am  not  in  a  hurry  to  meet  my  Sioux 
friends  again.  My  feeling  is  that  they  will 
show  up  soon  enough,  if  we  go  ahead  with 
that  northern  trip." 

At  Fort  Lincoln,  Joe  had  all  his  bad  news 
confirmed,  and  heard  more  of  the  same  kind, 
some  of  which  he  did  not  tell  the  boys. 

He  also  learned  that  about  twelve  hun- 
dred men  were  expected  to  arrive  soon  at 
Fort  Lincoln,  including  Custer's  Seventh 
Cavalry ;  and  a  steamboat  was  also  expected 
to  ascend  the  Yellowstone.  Joe  was  con- 
vinced that  these  plans  would  only  serve  to 
make  the  Sioux  more  hostile. 

Wlien  evening  came,  he  was  more  in  doubt 
than  ever. 

The  boys  suggested  that  they  might  go  up 
the  Yellowstone  with  the  soldiers  or  take 
passage  on  the  steamer. 

Joe  had  thought  of  both  plans,  but  the  sol- 
diers as  well  as  the  steamer  were  likely  to 
turn  him  and  his  boys  loose  in  the  most  dan- 
gerous part  of  the  country.     And  if  the 


AEE  YOU  GAME?  43 

steamer  was  under  government  charter,  the 
captain  might  refuse  to  take  them. 

Altogether,  Washita  Joe  had  never  been 
so  much  perplexed.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
compared  with  his  present  difficulties  and 
doubts,  the  hard  winter  campaign  against 
the  Cheyennes  and  Kiowas  and  Comanches 
had  been  nothing  but  boys'  play.  He  did 
not  have  to  bother  about  this  route  or  that; 
he  did  not  have  to  worry  about  anybody's 
safety,  not  even  his  o^\ti.  In  marching,  camp- 
ing, scouting,  or  fighting,  he  just  obeyed 
orders  and  that  was  all  there  was  to  it. 

"  Wliat  would  you  do,"  asked  Hank,  "  if 
you  did  not  have  us  to  look  after?  " 

"  By  the  great  horn  spoon,"  vowed  Joe, 
"  if  I  was  alone,  I  would  say,  '  To  thunder 
with  all  the  Sioux.  I'll  strike  out  for  the 
plains,  and  take  my  chances  on  getting 
through.'  I  never  realized  how  a  man  may 
be  unnerved,  if  he  is  the  one  responsible  for 
everything  that  goes  wrong.  If  Custer  had 
ordered  me  to  ride  to  China,  I  should  have 
started  out  at  once,  Indians  or  no  Indians!  " 

"All  right,  Joe,"  replied  Hank,  "  if  you 


44     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

feel  that  way  about  it,  you  just  be  Custer. 
Don  and  I  will  be  your  men,  and  when  you 
say  *  March ! '  we  march.  We  came  out  with 
you  to  see  the  plains ;  we  are  not  looking  for 
any  tea-parties." 

"You  bet!  That's  right,"  Don  chimed 
in.  "  We  didn't  come  out  for  any  tea- 
parties.  We  want  some  adventure.  I  say, 
'  Let's  go.'  The  Sioux  can't  hit  us  any 
easier  than  they  can  hit  you." 

"All  right,  boys! "  exclaimed  Joe,  thrust- 
ing out  his  arms.  "  If  you  are  game,  I'll  be 
scalped  if  we  don't  go!  " 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  DISPUTE 

While  Joe  and  the  boys  were  preparing 
for  their  journey,  a  company  of  six  traders 
came  in  on  the  train,  and  after  talking  over 
their  plans  with  Joe,  it  was  decided  that  he 
and  the  boys  would  go  in  the  company  of  the 
traders. 

The  six  traders  were  men  with  but  little 
experience  on  the  plains,  but  they  seemed  to 
be  hardy,  and  brave  fellows  of  good  char- 
acter. They  realized  that  their  venture  at 
this  time  would  expose  them  to  some  dangers 
and  risks,  but  they  expected  to  follow  a  route 
far  north  of  the  main  camps  of  the  Sioux. 
If  they  did  not  fall  in  with  small  camps  of 
friendly  Sioux,  they  expected  by  a  detour 
to  the  north  to  make  their  way  to  the  Crow 
country  in  southwestern  Montana,  and  ulti- 
mately they  hoped  to  reach  Bozeman  and 
Virginia  City. 

They  had  a  valuable  assortment  of  goods 

45 


46    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

which  they  intended  to  carry  on  two  four- 
mule  wagons.  Each  man  was  also  provided 
with  a  saddle-horse,  and  if  on  any  part  of  the 
route  wagons  became  impracticable,  they 
would  be  ready  to  abandon  the  wagons,  pack 
the  most  valuable  goods  on  their  mules,  and 
cache  the  rest. 

Washita  Joe  did  not  feel  so  sure  as  Walsh 
Rankin,  the  leader  of  the  traders,  that  the 
Indians  would  not  molest  friendly  traders, 
but  he  felt  that  nine  men,  well  armed  and 
with  plenty  of  ammunition  would  be  able  to 
compel  good  behavior  on  the  part  of  such 
camps  or  small  roving  war  parties  as  they 
might  meet. 

It  took  about  a  week  for  the  traders  to 
complete  all  their  arrangements,  but  there 
was  no  hurry  because  the  party  did  not  in- 
tend to  leave  Bismarck  until  the  new  grass 
had  started  on  the  prairie,  so  that  their  horses 
and  mules  could  find  plenty  to  eat.  The 
men  reasoned  that  they  could  take  no 
chances  on  having  their  animals  become 
poor,  for  they  realized  that  they  might  have 
to  do  some  long  and  fast  riding. 


THE  DISPUTE  47 

At  last,  about  the  middle  of  May,  the 
grass  showed  pale  green  on  the  prairie 
slopes,  and  the  expedition  was  ready  to  start, 
very  much  to  the  delight  of  the  boys,  whose 
patience  had  been  severely  taxed,  although 
with  riding  their  horses  and  shooting  at  an 
improvised  target  range  every  day,  their 
time  had  been  well  used.  Without  the  boys 
knowing  it,  old  Joe  had  put  them  through  a 
kind  of  training  camp,  which,  he  hoped, 
would  enable  them  to  endure  the  hard  travel 
before  them  without  soreness  and  too  much 
fatigue. 

Joe  tried  to  persuade  the  traders  to  start 
after  dark,  but  the  traders  ridiculed  this 
idea. 

"\^^at?"  exclaimed  Walsh  Rankin. 
"  Sneak  out  of  to^vn  like  a  bunch  of  road- 
agents?  No,  old  fellow,  we'll  start  in  day- 
light. And  if  our  friends  want  to  give  us  a 
send-off  with  a  brass  band,  I  am  agreeable. 
I  reckon  we  shall  hear  little  else  but  tom- 
tom music  for  the  rest  of  the  summer." 

"  You  jump  in  the  INIissouri  with  your 
brass  band,"  Joe  retorted  angrily.     "You 


48    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

fellows  think  because  you  once  sold  some 
calico  to  the  squaws  and  treated  the  bucks  to 
some  of  your  rotten  whiskey,  no  Indian  is 
going  to  hurt  you.  Don't  you  know  that  the 
whole  plains  country  is  dotted  with  the  bones 
of  fellows  who  did  not  use  common-sense 
care,  when  they  travelled  through  dangerous 
country? 

"  I  know,  and  you  ought  to  know  it  by 
this  time,  that  travelling  in  the  Indian  coun- 
try is  going  to  be  dangerous  this  summer. 
Now,  if  the  boys  and  I  are  going  to  travel 
with  you,  you  fellows  are  going  to  use  or- 
dinary precaution.  If  you  are  not  willing 
to  do  that,  we  strike  out  on  our  own  trail. 
I  am  not  going  to  take  a  fool's  chances  with 
the  lives  of  my  boys." 

"Don't  get  mad,  Joe!"  argued  Rankin. 
"  We  are  willing  to  be  careful.  But  what 
is  the  need  of  sneaking  out  of  a  white  man's 
town  after  dark? " 

"  I  will  get  mad,  and  I  will  leave  you,  if 
you  are  not  going  to  listen  to  reason,"  the 
old  soldier  came  back. 

"  Can't  you  see,  Walsh  Rankin,  that  being 


THE  DISPUTE  49 

careful  doesn't  do  any  good  after  your  horses 
are  stolen  or  your  scalp  is  off  ?  I  don't  want 
those  Sioux  scouts  that  hang  around  on  the 
bluffs  to  report  to  a  lot  of  wild  young  bucks 
that  a  bunch  of  fool  white  men  has  started 
north  with  wagons  and  horses. 

"  Can't  you  see  what  a  fine  chance  we 
would  offer  them  to  ambush  us,  while  we  are 
travelling  north  toward  the  big  bend  of  the 
Souris?  Some  of  their  young  men  who  have 
not  yet  counted  any  war  coups,  could  not 
wish  for  a  better  chance  to  secure  some  fine 
horses,  a  lot  of  plunder;  and,  maybe,  a  few 
scalps." 

"  I  have  not  seen  a  Sioux  scout  for  a 
week,"  Rankin  argued. 

"  Neither  have  I,"  admitted  Joe,  "  but  I 
am  quite  sure  that  they  have  seen  us. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Walsh,  get  it  out  of 
your  head  that  there  are  no  Indians  wHere 
you  don't  see  any!  If  that  is  the  principle 
you  are  going  to  follow,  you  and  your  men 
will  lose  your  scalps  and  the  boys  and  I  will 
not  travel  with  you." 

Rankin  had  still  other  objections  to  start- 


50     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

ing  after  dark.  The  men  in  town  would 
think  he  and  the  other  traders  were  afraid  of 
the  Indians,  moreover,  some  of  the  boys, — 
he  meant  his  young  men  friends, — had 
j)lanned  to  go  with  them  a  day's  journey  and 
try  their  greyhounds  on  some  antelopes. 

"  Well,  all  I  have  to  say,  Walsh,  is  that 
you  must  have  been  half  over  when  you 
made  that  kind  of  a  tomfool  plan.  You  fel- 
lows all  have  plenty  of  courage ;  but  for  In- 
dian traders,  somebody  short-changed  you 
on  good  sense.  If  you  respected  the  In- 
dians a  little  more,  you  would  keep  your 
hair  on  longer. 

"  The  boys  and  I  will  be  ready  to-morrow 
night;  but  no  brass  bands,  and  no  grey- 
hounds, or  we  don't  travel  with  you." 

When  the  old  soldier  met  his  boys  at 
supper  after  this  discussion,  he  was  not  in  a 
very  happy  frame  of  mind. 

"  Common  sense,"  he  concluded  after  tell- 
ing the  boys  all  about  his  arguments  with 
Rankin.  "  Common  sense  seems  to  be  about 
as  uncommon  at  Bismarck  as  it  is  at  Boston. 

"  I  fear  we  shall  have  trouble  with  these 


THE  DISPUTE  51 

fellows  on  the  trail.  They  are  a  bunch  of 
young  fellows  with  more  than  their  share  of 
brag  and  bravery,  but  they  are  short  on  good 
sense. 

*'  Some  of  them  will  never  get  back  to  tell 
the  girls  about  their  wonderful  adventures 
in  the  Indian  country." 

Joe  felt  that  perhaps  the  young  traders 
would  take  him  at  his  word,  and  let  him  and 
the  boys  start  by  themselves ;  however,  early 
next  morning,  Rankin  came  and  told  him  that 
the  boys  all  agreed  it  would  be  best  to  make 
the  start  as  Joe  had  planned  it;  because  he 
had  had  so  much  more  experience  with  In- 
dians than  any  of  them. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  on  a  warm  May 
evening  in  the  spring  of  1875,  the  little 
caravan  of  two  wagons,  seven  mounted  men 
and  five  extra  horses,  quietly  slipped  out  of 
Bismarck  on  the  eastward  trail  along  the 
Northern  Pacific  Railroad. 

A  few  miles  east  of  to^\Ti  they  struck  out 
northward  for  the  great  bend  of  the  Souris 
or  Mouse  River,  about  one  hundred  miles 
north  of  Bismarck. 


52     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

On  this  river  they  thought  they  might  find 
small  camps  of  friendly  Sioux,  or  possibly 
Assiniboins  from  Canada,  with  whom  they 
might  trade  for  valuable  northern  furs,  such 
as  marten,  otter,  and  silver  fox. 

None  of  them  had  ever  been  over  this  par- 
ticular route,  but  with  compass,  sun,  and 
stars  to  guide  them,  they  had  no  fear  of  miss- 
ing their  destination.  Their  plan  was  to 
travel  straight  north  as  far  as  the  character 
of  the  country  allowed  it,  and  to  keep  from 
ten  to  fifteen  miles  east  of  the  Missouri,  so 
as  to  avoid  crossing  the  deep  valleys  of  the 
creeks  and  small  streams  that  enter  the  Mis- 
souri from  the  prairie. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  WILD  PLAINS 

It  was  the  first  time  in  their  lives  that 
Hank  and  Don  had  ever  travelled  at  night, 
and  a  most  uncanny  way  it  seemed  to  them. 

For  an  hour  they  could  see  the  dim  lights 
of  Bismarck  and  those  of  a  few  squatters  in 
the  neighborhood.  A  train  whistled  and  the 
glaring  headlight  of  a  long  freight  or  con- 
struction train  flashed  through  the  darkness. 
A  strange  rumbling  noise  came  through  the 
night,  there  was  another  long  whistle,  and 
then  the  night  of  the  endless  wilderness 
settled  over  the  travellers.  The  white  man's 
land  lay  behind  them,  and  the  dark  land  of 
the  Sioux  and  of  wild  bird  and  beast  swal- 
lowed them  up. 

It  seemed  to  the  lads  as  if  their  o^vn  small 

cavalcade  made  enough  noise  to  be  heard  for 

63 


54    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

miles.  How  those  wagons  rattled!  And 
how  loudly  the  saddles  creaked ! 

"  Indians  can  surely  hear  us  a  mile  off," 
asserted  Hank. 

"  So  they  could,"  Joe  admitted,  "  if  there 
were  any  of  them  near.  But  I  do  not  think 
that  there  are  any  large  camps  of  hostile 
Sioux  east  of  the  Missouri.  Most  big  camps 
are  farther  south,  between  the  Yellowstone 
and  the  Platte.  The  country  around  here 
gets  pretty  cold  in  winter.  But  I  did  not 
want  to  give  the  rascals  an  invitation  to  fol- 
low us.  Nobody  knows  who  all  those  reds 
are  that  come  into  Bismarck  almost  daily. 
They  are  supposed  to  be  friendly,  but  no- 
body really  knows.  I  have  asked  the  traders 
not  to  tell  anybody  in  what  direction  we  have 
gone,  and  I  hope  they  have  kept  mum." 

Don  was  much  more  excited  than  the  older 
boy.  He  kept  close  to  the  side  of  Joe,  who 
rode  ahead  a  little  way  to  pick  the  trail. 
Whenever  a  dark  rock  or  a  pile  of  dirt,  ex- 
cavated by  badgers  or  coyotes,  became  dimly 
visible,  Don's  heart  began  to  beat  fast,  and 
his  hair  seemed  trying  to  rise  under  his  hat. 


THE  WILD  PLAINS  55 

It  had  been  agreed  that  there  was  to  be  no 
loud  talking  and  calling,  but  when  a  fright- 
ened buck  snorted  at  the  travellers  from  the 
head  of  a  wooded  coulee,  and  then  broke 
noisily  for  the  brush  below,  Don's  nerves 
gave  way. 

"  There's  the  Indians  coming!  "  he  called       jj 
under  his  breath,  and  he  seized  his  rifle  ready   _ 
to  defend  his  life,  while  he  felt  the  gooseflesh 
creeping  all  over  his  back. 

"  Don,  don't  be  silly,"  the  older  brother 
admonished  the  excited  boy;  "  that's  a  scared 
deer." 

*'  How, — h-how  do  you  know — it — it's  a 
deer?  "  the  shivering  lad  defended  himself. 
"  He — he  wh- whistles  like  a  mad  Indian!  " 

Hank  started  to  laugh,  but  Joe  stopped 
him,  saying  kindly,  "  You  need  not  be  afraid 
of  Indians  now.  Thev  hardlv  ever  attack 
at  night.  If  there  is  an  Indian  within 
twenty  miles  of  us,  he  is  curled  up  in  his 
blanket  in  his  tepee  or  in  the  shelter  of  a 
wickiup,  where  the  wind  does  not  strike 
him."  ^ 

When  Joe  further  assured  the  excited  lad 


56     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

that  he  was  not  at  all  on  the  lookout  for  In- 
dians now,  but  was  just  riding  ahead  to  pick 
the  best  trail  for  the  wagons,  Don  became 
quiet  and  began  to  laugh  at  his  own 
fright. 

The  world  of  night  seemed  to  be  entirely 
different  from  the  world  in  daytime.  Never 
had  the  boys  imagined  that  there  could  be 
such  a  medley  of  voices  of  the  night.  The 
coyotes'  weird  howl  and  yap  seemed  to  be 
all  around  them,  and  a  few  times  the  call  of 
gray  wolves  came  from  the  distance.  The 
sloughs  were  alive  with  quacking  ducks, 
screaming  rails,  and  many  other  strange 
notes.  Even  the  air  overhead  was  not  silent. 
The  lads  recognized  the  familiar  cries  of  the 
killdeer,  but  there  were  many  faint  lisping 
notes  in  the  air,  as  of  small  birds;  for  the 
spring  migration  of  birds  was  at  its  height. 
Now  and  then  an  owl  circled  overhead  of  the 
travellers;  and  several  times,  frightened 
sage-hens  and  prairie-chickens  rose  up  al- 
most under  the  horses'  feet. 

When  at  last  the  stars  had  faded,  and  one 
could  see  some  distance  ahead  in  the  soft 


THE  WILD  PLAINS  57 

gray  dawn,  the  meadow-larks  began  to 
whistle  their  cheerful  song;  and  on  the  bushes 
of  the  coulees  the  ubiquitous  song-sparrows 
began  to  trill  their  morning  ditty;  and  all 
sense  of  war  and  danger  seemed  to  have  dis- 
appeared. 

Joe  stopped  on  the  bluff  of  a  wooded 
ravine.  "  I  think  we  may  as  well  camp  here 
for  breakfast,"  he  said.  He  took  the  saddle 
off  his  horse  and  picketed  the  animal,  and 
the  boys  did  the  same  with  their  horses.  The 
traders,  however,  just  turned  their  animals 
loose,  although  Joe  warned  them  of  the 
danger  of  doing  so. 

"  If  a  band  of  Sioux  should  come  shouting 
and  yelling  out  of  that  ravine,"  he  cautioned 
them,  "  your  mules  and  horses  would  stam- 
pede before  you  could  catch  a  single  one  of 
them." 

But  the  traders  laughed  at  him,  saying 
they  were  not  afraid  of  Indians. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  trouble  with  you  fel- 
lows," Joe  remonstrated.  "  Some  day  you 
will  get  scared  just  a  minute  too  late." 

In  about  two  hours  the  mules  were  again 


58    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

hitched  to  the  wagons  while  Joe  and  his  boys 
were  again  acting  as  advance  guard. 

Whenever  they  came  to  a  rise  of  the  end- 
less brown  plain,  Joe  dismounted  and  care- 
fully examined  the  country  in  all  directions 
through  his  glass,  without  exposing  himself 
against  the  sky. 

"  How  could  you  see  an  Indian  miles 
away?  "  the  boys  wanted  to  know. 

Joe  explained  to  them  that  he  might  not 
see  the  Indians  themselves,  unless  they  were 
travelling  in  the  open,  but  if  they  had  a  camp 
within  ten  miles,  he  would  be  able  to  see  the 
smoke  of  their  camp-fires,  and  they  would 
thus  be  enabled  to  keep  out  of  sight  of  the 
camp. 

The  day  was  ideal  for  travelling  over  the 
plains.  The  booming  of  prairie-chickens 
was  heard  everywhere,  flocks  of  ducks  and 
wild  geese  were  swimming  about  on  the 
sloughs,  the  little  brown  gophers  were  chas- 
ing one  another,  like  boys  playing  tag,  and 
tall  sandhill  cranes  stalked  about  near  the 
sloughs  and  uttered  their  wild  calls. 

In  one  of  the  wooded  ravines,  which  they 


THE  WILD  PLAINS  59 

crossed,  Joe  killed  a  deer ;  and  near  a  marsh 
the  boys  secured  a  big  fat  goose.  Once  they 
saw  a  small  herd  of  buffaloes  in  the  distance, 
and  as  they  crossed  a  rise  they  surprised  a 
herd  of  elk.  When  Joe  let  the  boys  try  a 
long  range  shot  at  them  the  whole  herd  broke 
in  a  wild  run  for  the  timber  near  the  Mis- 
souri. They  saw  also  several  small  bands  of 
antelopes,  and  watched  many  short-legged, 
wabbling  badgers  dig  large  holes  in  quest  of 
gophers. 

Rather  early  in  the  afternoon  they  made 
camp  near  a  water-hole,  which  was  really 
a  large  buffalo-wallow,  but  at  this  time  was 
filled  with  good  water  for  the  horses  and 
mules.  The  men  brought  water  and  wood 
from  a  ravine  near  by,  and  the  young 
grass  furnished  plenty  of  feed  for  the 
animals. 

Venison,  broiled  over  a  bed  of  live  coals, 
furnished  the  evening  meal  for  the  men, 
while  the  boys  feasted  on  wild  goose,  roasted 
on  a  spit  of  green  willow. 

Joe  and  the  boys  staked  out  their  horses, 
but  the  men  did  not  picket  theirs  till  dark. 


60     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Joe  had  another  argument  with  the  men 
about  guarding  camp  through  the  night,  the 
traders  claiming  it  was  not  necessary,  be- 
cause they  had  seen  no  sign  of  Indians  all 
day. 

Finally  the  two  boys  volunteered  to  guard 
camp  till  midnight,  while  Joe  stood  through 
the  dangerous  hours  of  early  morning,  the 
favorite  time  of  Indians  for  making  their 
raids. 

On  the  second  day,  the  travellers  turned 
so  far  away  from  the  Missouri  that  they  . 
found  no  wood,  but  had  to  use  buffalo  chips 
for  cooking  their  meals. 

On  the  third  day,  Joe  discovered  some 
pony  tracks  crossing  the  sand  of  a  dry  run, 
but  as  a  shower  had  passed  over  the  country 
since  the  tracks  were  made  it  was  impossible 
to  tell  how  old  they  were. 

The  traders  were  of  the  opinion  that  they 
were  made  by  wild  ponies,  but  Joe  felt  sure 
that  the  tracks  indicated  that  Indian  horse- 
men had  crossed  the  run.  He  strongly 
urged  the  men  to  stay  close  together  and  not 
let  one  of  the  wagons  straggle  behind,  and 


THE  WILD  PLAINS  61 

not  to  do  any  shooting  and  hunting  till  they 
had  reached  the  Souris. 

The  scrawny  lot  of  horses  which  Joe  had 
bought  travelled  and  acted  very  well.  The 
boys  also  stood  up  well  under  the  hardship 
of  travel  and  camping  and  each  said  he  had 
never  had  such  a  good  time  in  his  life,  and 
the  plains  beat  Boston  all  hollow. 

The  weather  also  was  fine.  The  cotton- 
woods,  willows,  and  other  bushes  of  the 
coulees  and  ravines  showed  the  first  signs  of 
new  foliage,  while  the  prairie  hills  were  still 
dotted  far  and  wide  with  the  delicate 
lavender  of  the  wild  crocuses,  the  first  con- 
spicuous spring  flowers  of  the  great  interior 
plain. 

Only  one  thing  worried  Joe.  The  care- 
lessness of  the  traders.  They  would  not 
picket  their  horses  and  they  would  not  stand 
guard  at  night  without  much  unpleasant 
wrangling. 

"  When  we  reach  Mouse  River,"  Joe  con- 
fided to  the  boys,  "  I  think  we  shall  strike 
out  on  our  own  trail  and  let  these  fellows 
look  out  for  themselves.     My  only  hope  is 


62     THE  THKEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

that  we  may  reach  the  river  without  any  bad 
luck.  Do  not  ride  with  Ritman  and  Lester, 
if  they  fall  behind  again,  and  start  shooting 
at  antelopes  as  they  did  this  afternoon.  It 
is  playing  a  dangerous  game." 


CHAPTER  VII 

AT  BAY 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth. day,  they 
were  approaching  the  Souris.  At  least  Joe 
thought  that  the  valley  with  the  patches  of 
timber  which  they  saw  in  plain  view  about 
three  miles  ahead  must  be  the  valley  of  the 
Souris  or  Mouse  River. 

On  this  river  Joe  expected  to  find  a  good 
camping-place,  and  if  he  discovered  no  signs 
of  hostile  Indians,  he  intended  to  get  some 
fresh  meat,  for  he  felt  quite  sure  that  both 
elk  and  deer  would  be  plentiful  in  the  groves 
of  timber,  and  he  thought  he  might  even  be 
able  to  secure  a  fat  young  buffalo. 

Hank  and  Don  were  riding  in  the  wagon 

with  Ritman  and  Lester,  for  these  two  men 

had  taken  a  liking  to  the  boys.     But  as  the 

travellers  approached  the  river  valley,  Joe 

asked  the  lads  to  mount  their  horses  and  ride 

with  him  at  the  head  of  the  train,  for  ever 

63 


64    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

since  he  had  discovered  the  pony  tracks,  Joe 
had  kept  up  a  sharp  lookout  for  Indians. 

Descending  into  the  valley  of  the  Souris, 
Joe  stopped  the  first  wagon  in  a  grove  of 
scattered  young  cottonwoods.     When  some 
ten  or  fifteen  minutes  elapsed  before  the 
second  wagon  hove  in  sight  over  the  low 
bluff,  Joe  became  uneasy.     He  listened  in- 
tently for  sounds  from  the  wagon,  but  a 
strong  wind  was  blowing  the  wrong  way  and 
not  a  sound  of  the  wagon  or  the  two  men 
was  to  be  heard.    What  could  be  the  trouble? 
Could  they  have  lost  a  package  and  returned 
for  it?     That  had  happened  several  times, 
because  the  two  young  fellows  were  careless 
about  loading  the  bales  and  boxes.     Perhaps 
they  had  even  stopped  the  wagon  again,  and 
on  their  saddle-horses,  had  chased  after  some 
antelopes  as  they  had  done  on  several  occa- 
sions.    Joe  muttered  something  to  himself 
about  overgrown  kids,  who  had  no  business 
on  the  plains,  and  he  vowed  in  his  mind  that 
he  would  travel  no  farther  in  the  company 
of  men  who  would  not  use  ordinary  caution. 
Just  then,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  heard 


AT  BAY  65 

some  shots  in  the  dh'ection  he  had  come. 
Don  also  thought  he  had  heard  shooting. 

"  Come  on,  boys ! "  Joe  called  to  Hank 
and  Don,  "  we  must  see  what  detains  them." 

The  sight  which  met  Joe,  as  he  looked 
over  the  bluff,  almost  froze  the  blood  in  his 
veins. 

A  few  hundred  rods  back  on  the  trail,  the 
wagon  lay  turned  over.  The  goods  were 
scattered  on  the  ground,  the  mules  were  cut 
loose,  and  a  troop  of  painted  Sioux  were 
plundering  the  boxes  and  bales.  Ritman 
and  Lester  were  nowhere  to  be  seen,  but  half 
a  mile  east  some  Indians  were  chasing  two 
riderless  horses. 

Joe  knew  at  once  that  his  worst  fears  had 
more  than  come  true.  As  fast  as  their 
horses  could  carry  them,  he  and  the  boys 
were  back  at  camp. 

"Quick,  men,  quick!"  he  shouted. 
"  Throw  the  goods  on  the  ground  and  dig 
rifle-pits  behind  them.  The  Sioux  will  be 
on  us  in  a  minute.  Ritman  and  Lester  are 
killed!" 

But  the  men  seemed  not  to  believe  him. 


66    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

They  jumped  on  their  horses  and  raced  up 
the  bluff.  No  sooner  had  they  reached  the 
crest  of  the  bluff,  when  they  turned  abruptly 
and  came  racing  pell-mell  back  to  camp. 

"Run,  run!"  they  yelled.  "They're 
coming!  A  hundred  of  them!  We  can't 
stop  them! " 

"Get  off,  you  fools,  and  dig!"  Joe 
shouted.  "  I'll  shoot  the  first  man  that 
leaves  us!  Stop,  Rankin,  or  you're  a  dead 
man! " 

Joe's  levelled  pistol  seemed  to  bring 
Rankin  back  to  his  senses.  He  jumped  to 
the  ground  and  began  to  help  Joe  and  the 
boys  in  throwing  a  hasty  barricade  around 
the  wagon  and  the  animals,  and  the  other 
three  men  followed  his  example. 

"  They  will  kill  our  horses  and  mules. 
We  are  lost!  "  moaned  one  of  the  men. 

"Never  mind  the  animals!"  Joe  com- 
manded. "Dig,  men,  dig!  Throw  some 
logs  on  the  goods !  We  have  to  make  a  brave 
stand  or  we  are  lost,  every  man  of  us !  " 

To  the  surprise  of  the  men,  the  Indians 
did  not  at  once  rush  upon  them,  but  gave 


AT  BAY  67 

them  time  to  complete  their  rude  fortifica- 
tion, consisting  of  bales  and  boxes  of  goods, 
a  few  logs  and  stumps,  together  with  some 
dirt  hastily  thrown  up  with  the  two  spades 
in  the  first  wagon. 

The  Sioux  had  not  been  able  to  resist  the 
temptation  to  plunder  the  rear  wagon,  be- 
fore they  pressed  home  their  attack.  Had 
they  not  done  this,  they  could  have  taken  the 
whole  party  by  surprise,  and  killed  every 
man. 

But  now  they  appeared  in  force  on  the 
bluff.  Ten,  twenty,  thirty  of  them  there 
might  be,  all  naked  with  their  faces  painted 
for  war.  Most  of  them  had  gnins,  but  a  few 
carried  bows  and  arrows.  They  seemed  to 
be  holding  a  council  of  war.  A  big  man  on 
a  calico  pony  seemed  to  be  the  chief. 

"  Let's  give  them  a  volley ! "  one  of  the 
men  suggested.  "  Our  Henrys  can  reach 
them." 

"  No,  you  don't ! "  Joe  commanded 
sternly.  "  Hold  your  fire  till  I  give  the 
word.  Aim  carefully  at  your  man  and  drop 
him.     It's  our  lives  or  theirs,  men !  " 


68     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

It  seemed  an  interminably  long  time  be- 
fore those  painted  Sioux  warriors  made  a 
move.  But,  at  last,  they  advanced.  Slowly 
at  first,  but  soon  at  a  breakneck  speed,  yell- 
ing their  terrible  war-whoop  and  racing  as  if 
they  would  ride  straight  over  and  into  the 
rude  fort,  in  which  every  man  lay  flat  with 
his  finger  on  the  trigger. 

Now  they  began  to  scatter  and  circle 
around  the  fort.  A  few  discharged  their 
arms,  but  the  white  men  had  now  regained 
their  composure  and  did  not  reply.  Closer 
and  closer  they  came  until  they  were  within 
less  than  a  hundred  yards. 

"  Let  go  at  them,"  called  Joe,  and  a  crack- 
ling volley  broke  from  the  seven  concealed 
defenders,  who  uttered  a  yell  of  defiance  as 
three  Indians  and  two  ponies  fell  dead  or 
badly  wounded. 

"  Five  out  of  seven!  "  Joe  tallied.  "  Not 
so  bad,  but  we  ought  to  do  better." 

The  Sioux  uttered  a  yell  of  rage,  and 
withdrew  out  of  range. 

With  the  instinct  of  an  experienced  In- 
dian fighter,  Joe  had  chosen  a  very  strong 


AT  BAY  69 

position.  The  camp  was  so  close  to  the 
river  that  the  Indians  did  not  dare  to  get 
between  the  camp  and  the  stream,  but  could 
make  their  attack  only  from  three  sides, 
and  could  not  completely  surroimd  the 
camp. 

One  more  attack  they  m^ade,  but  this  time 
they  were  much  more  cautious  and  only  one 
of  them  was  hit. 

They  seemed  to  be  satisfied  now  that  the 
white  man's  camp  could  not  be  carried  by 
assault.  They  withdrew  to  the  crest  of  the 
bluff  and  evidently  were  holding  another 
council,  while  two  of  them  approached 
within  a  safe  distance  and  called  on  the 
whites  to  come  out  and  fight  like  men. 

\\Tien  these  challenges  brought  no  reply, 
they  began  to  talk  in  sign. 

"  You  are  gophers !  Dogs,  squaws,  co- 
yotes in  their  holes.  Come  out.  Fight. 
Rub  vou  out !  "  That  was  as  much  as  Joe 
could  interpret  of  the  universal  language  of 
the  plains. 

As  the  Sioux  seemed  to  have  had  enough 
of  fighting  for  the  day,  the  besieged  men 


70    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTi:N'a  BULL 

made  use  of  the  lull  in  the  battle.  They 
watered  their  animals,  and  picketed  them  or 
tied  them  to  trees,  so  they  could  graze  under 
the  protection  of  the  men's  rifles. 

Then  they  filled  their  water-pails,  built  a 
fire,  and  made  supper;  all  within  plain  sight 
of  the  enemy. 

Joe  seemed  to  enjoy  his  meal  as  much  as 
ever.  The  boys  and  most  of  the  men  could 
not  eat  much,  but  all  were  very  thirsty.  Al- 
though the  water  was  almost  as  muddy  as 
that  in  the  Missouri,  no  spring  water  had 
ever  tasted  better  to  them. 

Toward  dusk  Joe  statione9  two  men  each 
behind  a  tree,  close  to  the  river. 

"  If  you  see  any  Indian  trying  to  sneak 
up  on  shore  or  show  himself  across  the  river, 
send  him  a  ball.  There  will  be  little  sleep 
for  us  men,  while  our  friends  are  near.  If 
we  keep  cool  and  alert,  we  may  get  out  of 
this  alive." 

Thus  far,  none  of  the  seven  defenders  was 
hurt,  and  only  two  of  the  mules  had  been 
wounded. 

The  boys  wondered  why  the  Sioux  had 


AT  BAY  71 

not  aimed  at  the  animals.     "  They  could 
have  hit  them  easily,"  said  Don. 

"  That  is  true,"  assented  Joe.  "  But  they 
expect  to  ride  them,  after  they  have  taken 
our  scalps." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A  TERRIBLE  DAY 

The  men  ate  their  supper  without  being 
attacked.  If  a  stranger  had  viewed  the 
scene  from  a  distance,  he  might  have  thought 
that  he  saw  a  camp  of  white  men  and  a  camp 
of  Indians  as  friendly  neighbors. 

The  two  boys  and  the  five  men  who  were 
just  finishing  their  supper  could  be  under  no 
illusion,  however,  as  to  the  disposition  of 
their  neighbors. 

The  canvas  cover  of  the  wagon  was  rid- 
dled with  bullets  and  arrows,  many  of  the 
trees  showed  the  pecviliar  blaze  made  by  a 
glancing  bullet,  and  two  of  their  compan- 
ions, the  men  knew,  were  lying  dead  on  the 
prairie. 

The  seven  at  the  camp-fire  had  come  out 
of  the  fight  without  a  scratch,  but  they  all 

realized   that   they   were   besieged   by   the 

72 


A  TERRIBLE  DAY  73 

Sioux,  and  that  the  Indians  might  renew  the 
attack  at  any  time. 

^Miile  Joe  was  leisurely  puffing  his  old 
black  campaign  pipe,  his  mind  ran  rapidly 
over  the  events  of  the  day,  and  then  planned 
for  the  defense  of  to-morrow. 

With  the  instinct  and  quick  eye  of  a  born 
Indian  fighter,  he  detected  a  dangerously 
weak  spot  in  their  position.  The  nearness  of 
their  fort  to  the  river  was  a  source  of  great 
strength  only  as  long  as  the  Indians  at- 
tacked on  horseback.  If  they  should  be  de- 
termined enough  to  renew  the  fight  on  foot, 
the  position  of  the  fort  so  close  to  the  river 
would  become  a  source  of  fatal  wealaiess,  as 
soon  as  the  Indians  had  taken  in  the  situa- 
tion; and  he  had  no  doubt  that  they  would 
take  it  in. 

If  a  few  Sioux  warriors  crawled  along 
under  the  bank  and  behind  the  dead  grasses 
and  bushes  until  they  could  hide  under  cover 
of  the  bank  between  the  stream  and  the  fort, 
that  little  fort  and  its  defenders  were 
doomed.  The  Indians  would  hold  a  much 
stronger  place  than  the  few  whites.     The 


74    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

fort  would  be  completely  surrounded  and 
the  defenders  would  not  be  able  to  hold  it 
against  a  much  superior  number;  neither 
could  they  risk  a  bold  charge,  nor  could  they 
break  away  with  the  slightest  hope  of  saving 
their  lives.  Once  let  the  Sioux  completely 
surround  them,  and  every  man  in  that  little 
improvised  fort  was  doomed  to  be  killed  and 
scalped. 

Joe  thought  of  Major  Elliot  and  his  four- 
teen men  on  the  Washita,  and  of  Captain 
Fetterman  and  his  eighty  troopers  who  were 
enticed  into  an  ambush  near  Fort  Phil  Kear- 
ney where  every  one  of  them  was  killed 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  whole  garrison  of 
the  fort.  The  Sioux  were  no  mean  fighters 
and  no  mean  strategists. 

With  a  grim  face  Joe  smoked  his  old  pipe, 
while  his  companions  sat  in  solemn  silence 
around  the  fire,  their  eyes  watching  the 
bluffs,  where  the  Sioux  had  disappeared 
from  sight. 

"  Do  you  suppose  they  have  pulled  out?  " 
Rankin  asked. 

"  No,"  answered  the  old  soldier,   "  that 


A  TERRIBLE  DAY  75 

movement  is  only  a  ruse.  They  are  right  be- 
hind the  crest  of  the  bluff  hoping  that  we 
might  be  foolish  enough  to  come  out  or  try 
to  travel. 

"  Do  you  see  that  rose-bush,  men,  just  on 
the  river  bank?  Right  there  we  want  to  dig 
a  good  safe  rifle-pit,  as  soon  as  it  is  fairly 
dark.  If  we  let  them  reach  a  position  under 
that  bank,  they  have  us  in  a  trap." 

"Why  not  begin  the  work  at  once?" 
asked  Hank. 

"  Bad  plan,"  Joe  explained.  "  We  do 
not  want  to  show  them  what  is  in  our  mind. 
It  is  just  possible  that  the  rogues  may  not 
think  of  that  plan,  unless  they  see  us  dig- 
ging." 

"  But  they  are  not  watching  us  now,"  Don 
said. 

"  That's  where  you  are  badly  mistaken, 
son,"  Joe  replied  with  a  sad  smile,  thinking 
of  the  two  careless  youths  who  might  have 
been  sitting  at  the  camp-fire.  "  I  am  sure 
that  several  of  their  scouts  have  their  eyes 
on  us  this  very  minute.  I  see  several  sus- 
picious looking  tufts  of  grass.    The  chances 


76     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

are  that  two  Sioux  eyes  are  peering  out  from 
under  those  tufts,  each  scout  lying  flat  on 
the  prairie." 

The  men  wondered  if  they  would  be  at- 
tacked during  the  night. 

"  Not  very  likely,"  Joe  rephed.  "  But 
I  expect  them  to  call  us  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, about  the  time  those  bush-sparrows  wake 
up.  They  will  steal  horses  at  night,  but  will 
seldom  start  a  fight  before  dawn. 

"  Well,  let  us  put  out  the  fire  and  tie  up 
the  animals.  It  is  almost  dark  enough  to 
begin  work.  No  loud  talking,  you  all  under- 
stand. Work  quietly,  and  listen  for  sovmds 
outside.  Remember,  don't  show  any  light 
of  a  match  or  pipe;  it  might  draw  a  bullet." 

The  men  worked  like  badgers  digging  in 
the  dark,  silently  but  fast.  As  two  of  them 
became  tired,  two  others,  who  had  been  on 
guard  on  the  river  bank,  relieved  them,  the 
boys  with  one  man  remaining  on  watch  in 
the  fort. 

The  rifle-pit,  large  enough  for  two  men,: 
was  soon  dug,  for  the  soil  consisted  of  a  fine 
sand  without  any  rocks. 


A  TEERIBLE  DAY  77i 

**  Now,  men,"  Joe  directed  them  in  a  low 
voice,  "  let  us  rmi  a  shallow  zigzag  trench 
from  our  fort  to  the  pit.  Then,  after  piling 
up  a  little  more  dirt  around  our  little  fort, 
this  camp  is  as  strong  as  we  can  make  it. 
Any  Sioux  bunch  that  tries  to  drive  us  out 
will  have  to  pay  for  the  attempt." 

About  midnight,  the  work  was  com- 
pleted. The  men  wrapped  themselves  in 
their  blankets,  took  a  drink  of  black  coffee, 
and  occupied  their  assigned  places.  The 
boys  had  been  told  to  lie  do^vn  and  try  to 
sleep. 

The  hours  passed  wearily,  and  Joe  passed 
silently  from  man  to  man,  fearing  more  that 
the  men  might  fall  asleep  from  sheer  fatigue, 
than  hoping  to  catch  any  sights  or  sounds  of 
lurking  enemies. 

The  ominous  silence,  which  nearly  al- 
ways marks  the  so-called  small  hours  of 
morning,  seemed  to  settle  with  a  kind  of 
heavy  foreboding  on  the  lonely  camp  on  the 
Souris.  The  horses  gave  an  occasional 
grunt,  one  of  the  more  restless  animals 
would  peel  off  a  mouthful  of  cottonwood 


78    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

bark,  and  some  small  rapids  in  the  river 
seemed  now  to  make  a  loud  gurgling  noise. 

Of  any  human  beings,  the  watchful  sen- 
tinels could  detect  no  sign  or  sound;  but 
the  call  of  coyotes  and  wolves  seemed  even 
more  common  than  usual,  and  in  a  patch  of 
timber  across  the  river  an  owl  was  heard 
several  times. 

The  boys  had  at  last  fallen  sound  asleep, 
being  worn  out  by  the  long  hard  ride  and 
the  excitement  of  the  fight. 

"If  I  do  not  come  out  of  this,"  Joe  had 
told  the  men,  "  and  you  do,  see  that  these 
boys  get  to  their  father  at  Bozeman." 

It  was  now  about  three  o'clock,  and  the 
men  all  knew  that  the  next  hour  would  tell 
whether  the  Sioux  had  left  or  were  con- 
cealed around  the  camp.  Joe  shook  the  boys 
gently  out  of  their  sleep,  because  he  feared 
that  they  might  expose  themselves,  if 
startled  by  pistol  and  rifle  shots. 

"  It's  time  to  keep  an  extra  sharp  look- 
out, men,"  Joe  cautioned.  "  Don't  shoot 
wild,  but  don't  let  them  come  too  close." 

Now  Rankin  motioned  to  Joe  and  pointed 


A  TEEKIBLE  DAY  79 

to  a  low  bush.  "  Is  that  a  real  bush? "  he 
asked  in  a  low  voice.  "  It  seems  to  me  the 
thing  has  moved  since  I  saw  it  first." 

Joe  looked  sharp  at  the  bush.  It  cer- 
tainly was  not  moving  now,  but  there  was 
something  a  little  unnatural  about  it,  be- 
cause it  seemed  to  grow  straight  out  of  the 
ground,  and  not  to  lean  outward  from  a 
common  center. 

"  Get  down,  men,"  Joe  whispered.  "  Look 
out!  Danger!  "  And  the  next  moment  he 
sent  a  carefully  aimed  ball  low  into  the  bush. 

The  bush  jumped  up,  uttered  a  terrible 
yell,  and  fell  back  as  if  dead. 

At  almost  the  same  moment  there  was  a 
blaze  and  a  crash  from  a  dozen  guns  all 
around  the  small  fort.  Two  shots  were  fired 
from  low  willows  across  the  river,  but  no 
Indian  had  gained  the  bank  near  the  fort. 

"  Pick  them  out,  before  they  can  crawl 
away,"  Joe  called.  "  Aim  carefully,  each 
man  take  his  own  time! " 

The  man  in  the  pit  fired  two  loads  of 
buckshot  at  the  Sioux  in  the  willows,  and 
from  movements  in  the  low  brush,  the  senti- 


80     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

nel  concluded  that  both  of  the  Sioux  in  the 
brush  were  either  wounded  or  driven  out  of 
their  position,  by  the  unexpected  strength 
of  the  resistance. 

In  the  meantime  the  other  men  had  each 
picked  his  Indian.  Some  of  these  had 
run  or  crawled  out  of  close  range,  and  one 
or  two  had  been  wounded  or  killed.  But 
one  of  the  boldest  of  the  Sioux  could  not  be 
dislodged.  He  had  reached  the  cover  of 
three  cottonwood  trees  growing  very  close 
together.  Half  a  dozen  times  the  defenders 
tried  to  silence  him,  but  again  and  again  he 
poked  his  long  gun  through  an  opening  in 
his  cover,  and  sent  a  ball  into  camp,  one  of 
which  grazed  Hank's  head,  who  had  peered 
over  the  breastwork  for  a  second  to  locate 
a  troublesome  Sioux  archer. 

"  That  fellow  behind  the  trees  has  got  to 
be  routed,  or  none  of  us  dares  to  raise  his 
head,"  Joe  fumed.  *'  Try  to  draw  his  fire, 
Rankin!" 

Scarcely  had  the  Sioux  fired  his  gun 
again,  when  Joe,  a  Colt's  pistol  in  each  hand, 
rushed  at  the  Sioux,  and  before  the  Indian 


A  TERRIBLE  DAY  81 

had  time  to  reload  his  gun  or  spring  at  Joe 
with  his  knife  and  hatchet,  it  was  all  over 
with  him. 

Rankin,  who  had  been  trying  in  vain  to 
dislodge  an  Indian,  followed  Joe's  example, 
and  rushed  at  his  man  with  a  pistol.  But 
this  man  was  quicker  or  less  bold  than  Joe's 
man,  for  he  broke  from  cover,  leaving  his 
gun  behind,  and  rushed  for  the  bluffs  as  if 
he  was  going  to  "  steal  second  base."  But 
Rankin  wounded  him  so  badly  that  two  of 
his  friends  had  to  carry  him  out  of  rifle 
range. 

This  bold  dash  on  the  part  of  the  white 
men  caused  all  the  Indians  to  break  from 
cover  and  run  for  the  hills ;  and  for  the  first 
time  since  dawn,  the  whites  dared  to  stand 
up. 

The  fight  had  really  lasted  only  about  an 
hour,  but  it  seemed  to  the  boys  as  if  they 
had  ducked  their  heads,  fired,  and  loaded 
their  guns  for  half  a  day.  Both  of  the  lads 
had  had  some  narrow  escapes.  Once  Don 
had  raised  his  head  a  little  too  high,  and  Joe, 
calling,  "  Get  down!"  had  roughly  tapped 


82     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

him  on  the  crown  with  the  butt  of  his 
rifle. 

The  words  were  scarcely  uttered,  when  a 
steel  arrow  stuck  in  the  butt  of  Joe's  gun; 
and  after  that  incident  Don  did  no  more 
careless  scouting. 

As  soon  as  the  men  had  made  sure  that 
no  other  Sioux  were  hidden  around  their 
camp,  they  took  the  animals  down  to  water, 
but  the  man  with  the  shotgun  and  two  men 
with  rifles  stood  behind  the  horses  ready  to 
discourage  any  Sioux  who  might  be  tempted 
to  fire  at  the  beasts  from  the  willow  brush 
across  the  river. 

Breakfast  was  eaten  with  apparent  good 
cheer,  but  there  was  an  unmistakable  under- 
current of  seriousness  in  camp.  None  of 
them  had  been  badly  wounded.  Joe  and 
one  of  the  traders  had  received  flesh 
wounds,  which  might  cause  trouble. 

Within  an  hour  the  Indians  appeared 
again,  and  although  they  kept  carefully  out 
of  range,  they  made  it  impossible  for  the 
white  men  to  move. 

Rankin  proposed  that  they  abandon  the 


A  TERKIBLE  DAY  83 

wagon  and  the  mules,  and  all  try  to  escape 
on  the  fastest  horses. 

But  to  what  place  of  safety  could  they 
escape?  It  was  a  hundred  miles  to  either 
Bismarck,  or  Fort  Totten  on  Devil's  Lake, 
and  with  enraged  Indians  dogging  their 
trail  they  could  not  hope  to  reach  either 
place. 

"No,  men,"  Joe  decided.  "Our  only 
chance  of  standing  them  off  is  right  here. 
If  we  begin  to  run,  we  are  lost." 

The  day  wore  on  slowly,  and  although  the 
men  could  take  turns  at  sleeping,  and  the 
animals  could  be  picketed  on  fresh  grass,  the 
company  did  not  look  forward  with  cheer  to 
another  night  of  watching,  and  a  second 
morning  of  fighting.  The  Indians  seemed 
to  be  waiting  for  more  warriors  to  renew  the 
attack.  In  that  case,  the  little  company 
could  not  hold  out  more  than  a  day  or  two. 

In  the  afternoon  a  sudden  commotion 
was  seen  among  the  Sioux  on  the  bluff.  The 
hearts  of  the  men  beat  faster.  Was  an- 
other dreaded  war  party  about  to  join  their 
enemies? 


84     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Soon  the  Indians  disappeared.  Some 
shooting  was  heard,  and  half  an  hour  later  a 
troop  of  cavalry  appeared  on  the  crest  of 
the  bluff. 

The  men  fired  their  guns  and  cheered,  and 
a  few  minutes  later  thirty  troopers,  on  a 
scouting  trip  from  Fort  Totten,  rode  into 
camp. 


CHAPTER  IX 

MINNEWAUKAN 

The  traders  had  had  enough  of  fighting 
Indians,  and  decided  that  the  only  thing  for 
them  to  do  was  to  go  with  the  soldiers  to 
Fort  Totten.  It  would  have  been  madness 
for  Joe  to  do  anything  else,  so  he  decided, 
although  with  much  reluctance,  to  take  the 
boys  to  Fort  Totten,  and  there  make  further 
plans. 

Before  the  company  started  for  Fort  Tot- 
ten, the  traders  dug  two  graves  on  the  prai- 
rie, and  laid  the  bodies  of  their  two  com- 
rades in  their  last  resting-place. 

The  tracks  of  the  Indian  ponies  showed 

that   the    Sioux   had   travelled   for   several 

miles  parallel  to  the  traders,  but  hidden  from 

view  by  a  rise  in  the  ground.     When  the 

two  men  had  left  their  companions  to  give 

chase  to  a  band  of  antelopes,  they  had  al- 

85 


86     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

most  ridden  into  the  midst  of  the  Sioux,  who 
had  quickly  surrounded  them  and  cut  off 
their  retreat. 

The  soldiers  from  Fort  Totten  had 
struck  the  pony  trail,  and  had  thus  been  led 
to  the  plundered  wagon.  As  soon  as  they 
had  discovered  that  another  wagon  and  a 
number  of  horses  had  passed  on  toward  the 
river,  they  had  followed  this  trail,  fully  ex- 
pecting to  find  the  second  wagon  plundered, 
and  the  owners  killed.  The  bodies  of  the 
two  men  killed  on  the  prairie  they  had  not 
found;  they  had,  in  fact,  not  looked  for 
them.  Both  traders  and  soldiers  acknowl- 
edged that  it  was  due  to  the  experience,  the 
cool  head  and  the  bravery  of  Washita  Joe 
that  every  man  of  the  party  that  started  for 
the  Souris  had  not  been  killed. 

Joe,  himself,  did  not  feel  at  all  elated  by 
any  feeling  of  having  done  a  brave  deed. 
He  reviled  himself  for  having  joined  the 
traders,  for  he  felt  that  he  and  the  boys 
could  have  travelled  with  so  little  noise  and 
exposure  that  no  Indians  would  have  dis- 
covered them.     The  only  satisfactory  thing 


MINNEWAUKAN  87 

connected  with  the  whole  trip  was  that  he 
had  saved  the  lives  of  four  men,  even  if  he 
had  lost  two. 

The  soldiers  travelled  about  thirty  miles, 
and  camped  for  the  night  on  a  small  lake 
with  enough  scrubby  timber,  box-elder,  and 
choke-cherry  to  enable  them  to  cook  their 
evening  meal. 

A  small  herd  of  buffaloes  was  seen  a  mile 
off  on  the  prairie,  but  the  officer  refused  to 
let  the  soldiers  hunt  them,  saying  he  did  not 
propose  to  offer  the  Sioux  any  more  chances 
for  white  scalps. 

"  Any  man,"  he  gave  out,  "  that  goes  out- 
side of  patrol  limits  will  bunk  a  month  in 
the  guard-house  at  Fort  Totten,  and  live  on 
bread  and  water." 

The  lake  on  which  camp  had  been  made 
was  alkaline  and  the  water  was  not  fit  for 
the  men  to  use,  although  the  horses  and 
mules  seemed  to  like  it.  But  Joe  soon  found 
a  small  dry  run,  in  which  he  dug  a  well  that 
gave  enough  good  water  for  the  boys  and 
himself,  and  the  soldiers  dug  several  wells 
for  their  use. 


88    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

There  was  no  bugle  sounded  in  camp  that 
night,  and  long  before  the  soldiers  were 
through  swapping  yarns  and  playing  cards 
for  captured  Indian  relics,  Joe  and  his 
party  were  sound  asleep  in  their  blankets. 

On  the  third  evening  all  arrived  safely  at 
Fort  Totten  beautifully  located  on  the 
south  side  of  Devil's  Lake,  or  Minnewau- 
kan,  the  brackish  inland  sea  of  the  present 
State  of  North  Dakota. 

Joe's  wound  had  already  begun  to  heal, 
but  the  other  wounded  man  was  sorely  in 
need  of  the  post  surgeon, 

"  Don,  were  you  badly  scared  in  our  fort 
on  the  Souris?"  asked  Hank  before  the 
lads  fell  asleep  that  night. 

"  I  was,"  admitted  Don,  *'  when  Joe 
rushed  at  the  Indian  with  his  pistol.  I  was 
afraid  some  of  the  other  Sioux  might  shoot 
him." 

"  Oh,  they  are  rotten  poor  shots ! "  cried 
Hank.  "  I  was  scared  when  Joe  had  to  hit 
you  on  the  head  to  prevent  the  Indian  from 
splitting  it  with  an  arrow." 

"  I  was  more   than  scared  stiff,"   Don 


MINNEWAUKAN  89 

confessed.  "  I  thought  an  Indian  had  hit 
me,  and  for  a  moment  I  thought  I  was 
dead. 

"  Say,  Hank!  I  would  not  be  afraid  to 
cross  the  plains  with  Joe  and  you.  Joe  can 
think  and  fight  at  the  same  time.  Wasn't  he 
quick  about  making  a  fort?  And  didn't  he 
nail  that  Indian  before  anybody  had  time  to 
think  what  he  was  going  to  do?  I  bet  none 
of  the  traders  would  have  dared  to  go  after 
that  Indian.  It  takes  a  soldier  to  fight  In- 
dians. 

"  Hank,  I  hope  we  stay  here  long  enough 
to  explore  this  big  lake.  It  is  fine  to  swim 
in,  Joe  says,  because  it  is  salt  like  the  sea. 
No,  not  really  salt,  but " 

"  Alkaline."  Hank  helped  him  over  the 
hard  word. 

"  I  went  down  to  taste  it.  It  is  mighty 
bad  stuff  to  drink.  It  tastes  like  soap-suds, 
and  salt  in  lemonade,  the  way  we  fixed  Bert 
Stratton's  lemonade  last  year  on  the 
Fourth. 

"  Hank,  you  are  asleep;  you  didn't  hear 
me.     Wake  up  1 " 


90    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Oh,  let  me  alone,"  drawled  Hank.  "  I 
am  sleepy.     Tell  me  to-morrow." 

Joe's  arm  did  not  heal  as  quickly  as  the 
old  soldier  had  expected.  It  became  badly 
inflamed,  and  for  several  days  it  looked  as 
if  Joe  might  lose  his  arm.  For  a  week  he 
had  to  stay  in  the  fort  hospital  and  after  he 
was  out  again,  he  had  to  keep  quiet  and  was 
not  allowed  by  the  surgeon  to  go  on  any  ex- 
ploring trip  with  the  boys. 

Minnewaukan,  DeviFs  Lake,  as  the  white 
people  have  crudely  called  it,  is  a  body  of 
water,  which  would  arouse  the  exploring  in- 
stinct of  any  real  boy. 

It  is  a  lake  of  numerous  bays  and  penin- 
sulas, where  one  might  be  lost  for  days.  The 
moisture  which  the  lake  gives  to  the  air,  the 
protection  from  rimning  prairie  fires,  and 
the  fine  soil  around  it,  have  produced  groves 
and  stretches  of  timber,  oaks,  elm,  linden, 
and  box-elder,  with  many  vines  and  shrubs 
as  underbrush  that  make  one  forget  that  he 
is  on  the  great  plain  and  not  in  the  big 
woods,  six  hundred  miles  to  the  southeast  in 
Minnesota  or  Wisconsin. 


MmNEWAUKAN  91 

The  strange  atmosphere  of  the  region 
caught  hold  of  the  boys  at  once.  It  seemed 
as  if  this  great  lake  with  all  its  smiimer 
charm  had  been  laid  down  here  on  the  plain 
by  a  special  act  of  God.  Maybe  the  Great 
Spirit  had  made  it  for  the  Indian  and  the 
buffalo.  The  buffaloes  had  left,  but  there 
were  still  about  a  thousand  friendly  Indians 
near  the  lake  and  the  fort. 

Many  questions  the  boys  asked  which  Joe 
found  it  hard  to  answer:  If  the  water  that 
ran  into  the  lake  was  not  alkaline,  why  was 
the  lake  alkaline?  If  the  lake  had  no  out- 
let, why  did  it  not  run  over? 

On  this  last  question  Joe  caught  the  boys 
fairly  and  squarely. 

"  You  fool  youngsters,"  he  came  back  at 
them,  "  can't  you  see  that  the  lake  isn't  full 
yet?  Don't  you  know  that  a  pan  can't  run 
over  till  it's  full?" 

It  did  not  help  the  boys  to  ask  why  the 
lake  was  not  full.  Joe  could  not  be  drawn 
out. 

"  Get  out  of  here,  you  ragamuff s !  "  he 
called  with  mock  anger.     "  Go  walk  around 


92     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

the  lake  and  find  out.  Get  out  of  here!  so 
I  can  finish  this  game  of  checkers  in  peace. 

"  Go  and  catch  us  some  pickerel  for  sup- 
per. I  am  getting  tired  of  the  mess-cook's 
salt  beef.  You  did  not  catch  a  thing  yes- 
terday." 

"  It  was  too  windy;  we  couldn't  go  out," 
Hank  explained. 

But  Joe  would  not  take  an  excuse. 

"  That's  the  time  they  bite  best,"  he  in- 
sisted. "  You  fellows  had  better  fish  while 
you  may.  When  we  get  away  from  here  to 
the  Bad  Lands,  and  the  Little  Missouri,  you 
will  have  no  chance  to  fish." 

"  Aren't  there  any  fish  in  the  Little  Mis- 
souri? "  Don  popped  out. 

"  Oh,  lots  of  them,  I  reckon,  but  the  water 
is  so  muddy,  they  can't  see  the  hook.  Skinny, 
hand  me  that  whip !  I'll  see  if  I  can't  clear 
this  shack  of  quizzing  brats!  " 

The  boys  rushed  out  of  the  shack  in  mock 
fright.  "  We'll  catch  you  a  mess  of  stickle- 
backs, a  bushel  of  sticklebacks!"  Don 
yelled. 

The  boys  did  go  and  catch  a  mess  of  pick- 


MINNEWAUKAN  93 

erel,  enough  to  make  a  meal  for  a  dozen  hun-s 
gry  men. 

Why  no  other  game  fish  but  pickerel 
.were  to  be  found  in  Devil's  Lake,  was 
another  puzzle  to  the  boys.  How  did  the 
pickerel  and  the  sticklebacks  get  into  the 
lake? 

Some  of  these  questions  the  boys  asked 
at  Lake  Minnewaukan  have  puzzled  even 
present-day  scientists. 

But  if  a  boy  wishes  to  know  how  fish  get 
into  almost  any  stream  or  lake  or  pond,  he 
must  turn  explorer  like  the  fishes  themselves. 
He  must  not  be  afraid  of  the  muddy  roads 
and  soft  fields  of  early  spring,  for  that  is 
the  time  when  the  different  kinds  of  fish  go 
to  explore  and  stock  new  waters  if  any  have 
arisen.  Many  lose  their  lives  in  these  an- 
nual explorations,  but  the  great  impulse  of 
life  urges  them  on,  even  as  the  human  land- 
seekers  pressed  on  and  on  over  the  Santa  Fe 
and  Oregon  Trails. 

As  soon  as  the  snow  has  melted  and  the 
streams  are  free  from  ice,  pickerel  and 
suckers  and  minnows  and  other  fishes  begin 


94     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

to  run  up-stream.  They  reach  every  body 
of  water,  unless  some  sheer  waterfall  or  dam 
stops  them.  Different  kinds  of  minnows 
and  small  dogfish  will  wriggle  up  a  run  not 
bigger  than  a  man's  thumb. 

Every  boy  and  girl  has  seen  something 
of  the  migration  of  robins  and  other  birds, 
but  the  real  scouts  turn  out  and  see  the 
migration  of  the  little  fishes  up  streams 
and  over  meadows  and  even  over  plowed 
fields.  It  goes  on  around  us  over  the  whole 
broad  continent  every  spring,  but  how  many 
boys  and  girls  have  ever  seen  it? 

In  some  such  way,  the  j)ickerel  and  the 
stickleback  and  other  fish  must  have  reached 
Minnewaukan,  a  very  long  time  ago,  when 
the  lake  may  have  had  an  outlet  to  some 
tributary  of  the  Missouri. 


CHAPTER  X 

A  BAD  NIGHT 

If  the  soldiers  were  inclined  to  complain 
about  the  mess,  the  boys  did  not;  they  just 
ate,  explored  anc  slept.  The  hfe  on  the 
oasis  of  woods  and  lake  on  the  great  plains 
was  one  of  pure  delight.  The  sunset  gun, 
taps,  and  reveille  soon  came  to  be  beloved 
sounds  to  the  lads.  The  soldiers  them- 
selves were  a  happy,  care-free  lot!  "  Boys 
in  uniform,"  Joe  used  to  call  them. 

They  had  only  one  grudge  against  Uncle 
Sam ;  they  did  not  like  garrison  duty.  They 
hoped  they  would  get  orders  to  join  Custer 
and  Forsyth,  or  anybody  on  the  Yellow- 
stone. 

"What  is  the  use,"  they  reasoned,  "of 
our  sticking  here  with  a.  bunch  of  friendly 
Indians? "  If  they  had  felt  sure  that  Cus- 
ter and  Forsyth  would  take  them  in,  many 

would  have  deserted  to  reenlist  on  the  Yel- 

95 


96     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

lowstone  or  at  Fort  Lincoln.  Some  of  the 
men  had  seen  service  at  Fort  Phil  Kearney 
and  in  the  comitry  of  the  old  Santa  Fe  and 
Oregon  Trails,  and  they  were  great  story- 
tellers, but  they  delighted  in  "  stuffing  the 
boys  "  with  all  kinds  of  wild  tales,  as  Joe 
called  it. 

Old  Cactus  Pete  was  the  worst  of  those, 
who  could  so  adroitly  mix  facts  and  fancy 
that  even  Joe  could  not  always  tell  whether 
Pete  was  giving  rein  to  his  imagination  or 
was  telling  one  of  those  true  tales  of  the 
plains  that  make  the  Arabian  Nights  seem 
like  rather  tame  stories. 

The  boys  were  inclined  to  believe  him 
word  for  word  until  one  day,  Don  asked  him 
what  made  the  hill  known  as  Devil's  Heart 
stand  up  all  alone  on  the  prairie. 

"  That  thar  mountain,"  replied  Pete  after 
a  moment's  thought,  "  hasn't  been  thar  very 
long.  When  I  first  passed  here,  ten  years 
ago,  on  a  buifalo  hunt  with  Slim  and  Rattle- 
snake Jim,  it  warn't  thar  at  all.  It  riz  up  in 
a  big  earthquake  the  year  we  was  away  fight- 
ing in  the  wagon-box  at  Fort  Phil  Kearney. 


A  BAD  KIGHT 


97 


When  I  seen  it  first  it  was  a  part  of  the 
lake,  a  big  hole,  a  hundred  feet  deep  I  should 
say." 

"You  fought  in  a  wagon-box?"  asked 
Hank,  passing  by  the  remarkable  origin  of 
Devil's  Heart. 

"  Yes,  we  sure  fought  them  in  the  wagon- 
box,"  insisted  Cactus  Pete. 

"  How  did  the  Indians  get  into  the 
wagon-box?  "  queried  Don  doubtingly. 

"  They  warn't  in  the  wagon-box,"  Pete 
explained,  "  but  believe  me,  boys,  them  In- 
juns tried  powerful  hard  to  get  in!  " 

Just  then  the  bugle  sounded: 


i 


:?ci^ 


p     #  y  P-#- 


W 


f: 


?=^ 


t-^Ht 


Soup  -  y,  soup  -  y,  soup  -  y        not    a  .     .sin  -  gle  bean  ; 


i 


g  ^  M (^ 


:t=n=t: 


^     P  P  f  P 


^ 


■^- 


Cof  -  fee,  cof-  fee,  cof  -  fee,      not    a  .     .bit    of  cream. 


E 


-#-•-•- 


Pork  -  y  pork  -  y,  pork  -  y,    not    a      .  streak  of  lean. 

"Mess  call!"  exclaimed  Don,  and  away 
he  was  without  pressing  any  farther  his  in- 


98     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

quiry  about  Devil's  Heart  and  the  fight  in 
the  wagon-box. 

When  after  dinner  the  boys  mentioned  the 
origin  of  Devil's  Heart  to  Joe,  their  friend 
laughed  outright. 

"  Boys,"  he  said,  "  Pete  has  filled  you  up 
again.  That  mountain  is  a  good  deal  older 
than  Adam  I  reckon.  Some  day  Cactus 
Pete  will  tell  you  that  he  was  there  when 
God  made  the  world,  and  you  fellows  will 
believe  him. 

"  Don't  you  laiow  yet  that  Pete  is  the 
biggest  liar  at  Fort  Totten?  " 

"Why  do  they  call  him  Cactus  Pete?" 
^on  wondered. 

"  Ask  him  yourself,"  Joe  suggested.  "  If 
he  likes  you  well  enough,  maybe  he  will  tell 
you.  Ask  him  after  supper  some  night, 
when  his  pipe  is  drawing  well." 

"  Pete  says  Slimmy  also  saw  the  hole 
where  Devil's  Heart  is  now,"  Don  objected 
rather  mildly. 

"Slimmy?"  Joe  burst  out  laughing 
again.  "  Slimmy  will  swear  to  anything 
Pete  claims  to  have  seen. 


A  BAD  NIGHT  99 

"  It's  all  right,  lads,  to  let  these  old  boys 
forget  their  troubles  in  telling  you  their  big 
yarns,  but  use  your  head  a  little  when  you 
listen  to  them." 

The  boys  mentioned  the  fight  in  the 
wagon-box  with  some  hesitation,  for  it 
seemed  about  as  improbable  as  the  story 
about  the  origin  of  Devil's  Heart. 

To  their  surprise  Joe  affirmed  that  there 
had  been  such  a  battle.  "And  that  is 
one  story  Pete  cannot  exaggerate,"  he 
added. 

In  the  afternoon  the  boys  went  out  fish- 
ing. The  lake  was  so  full  of  pickerel  in 
those  days,  that  the  boys  could  catch  a  mess 
in  almost  any  likely-looking  bay,  and  for 
that  reason  they  explored  a  new  part  of  the 
lake  on  almost  every  fishing  trip. 

On  this  occasion,  they  paddled  west  along 
shore  for  several  miles  and  then  crossed  over 
to  the  north  side  of  a  lake,  where  they  had 
never  fished.  Thev  took  some  lunch  with 
them  so  that  thev  would  not  have  to  return 
before  dark ;  because,  as  every  boy  knows, 
although  mother  and  sister  will  not  always 


100     THE  THKEAT  OF  SITTIISTG  BULL 

believe  it,  fish  do  sometimes  not  bite  till  just 
before  sunset. 

The  boys  had  bought  of  an  Indian  a  birch- 
bark  canoe,  the  only  one  brought  to  Fort 
Totten  from  Minnesota,  for  the  large 
straight  birches  that  furnish  the  white  bark 
for  canoes  do  not  grow  in  the  woods  at  Min- 
newaukan  or  anywhere  in  North  Dakota. 
The  boys  were  very  proud  of  the  way  they 
had  learned  to  handle  this  real  Indian  craft, 
and  took  very  good  care  of  it.  Their  canoe 
enabled  them  to  go  wherever  they  wanted, 
and  made  possible  many  a  short  cut  by 
carrying  it  across  ridges  and  necks  of 
land. 

The  birch-bark  canoe  has  always  been  the 
means  of  travel  used  by  the  Indians  of  the 
great  interior  region  of  lakes  and  rivers, 
from  the  Atlantic  coast  to  the  Red  River. 

The  Plains  Indians,  before  they  had 
horses,  had  to  travel  on  foot.  For  crossing 
rivers  or  going  long  distances  down-stream, 
they  used  bull-boats,  which  were  really  big 
round  baskets  covered  with  a  buffalo  skin. 

When  Hank  and  Don  reached  the  North 


A  BAD  NIGHT  101 

Bay,  it  was  almost  supper-time,  at  least 
Don's  stomach  said  it  was,  although  Hank 
claimed  the  sun  said  it  was  not  more  than 
four  o'clock. 

No  day  can  be  more  enchanting  than  a 
summer  day  in  the  wild  groves  and  on  the 
bays  of  Minnewaukan,  and  no  warm  sea- 
beach  or  shaded  swimming-hole  can  call 
more  insistently  to  a  boy  than  the  summer 
ripiDles  of  Minnewaukan,  the  alluring  inland 
sea  of  the  Land  of  the  Dakotas. 

"  We  don't  have  to  fish,"  suggested  Don. 
"  Let  us  have  a  swim  first." 

If  you  are  only  an  indifferent  swimmer, 
you  should  try  the  water  in  Lake  JNIinne- 
waukan.  A  long  time  ago,  the  Great  Spirit 
put  much  medicine  into  its  basin.  The  water 
of  Minnewaukan  is  not  good  to  swallow,  but 
it  is  the  best  of  all  lakes  for  swimming;  it 
buoys  up  the  swimmer  like  the  salt  water  of 
the  ocean. 

How  the  lads  revelled  in  the  warm  rip- 
ples, how  they  struck  out  into  deep  water  or 
dived  to  the  bottom,  which  is  covered  with  a 
soft  carpet  of  a  strange  grassy  water  plant. 


102     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

wherever  the  water  is  not  too  deep  for  plant 
growth. 

"  Time  to  come  out,"  Hank  called  at  last. 
"  I  guess  it  is  supper-time  now.  We  left 
our  drinking-water  at  the  landing.  I  will 
find  a  spring  or  dig  a  well  and  start  the  fire. 
You  try  to  catch  a  few  pickerel  for  supper." 

Hark  soon  found  a  spring  and  had  a  fire 
of  driftwood  over  a  small  fireplace  of  rocks, 
the  kind  that  do  not  burst  when  they  are 
heated.  Don  came  ashore  with  two  pick- 
erel, which  he  quickly  enclosed  in  a  cast  of 
wet  clay  and  placed  in  a  bed  of  live  coals  in 
Hank's  fireplace.  Both  lads  were,  by  this 
time^  pretty  good  Indians,  which  means  that 
they  could  find  food,  water,  and  shelter 
wherever  these  prime  necessities  of  all  life 
existed. 

The  fish  came  out  of  their  skins  as  clean 
and  white  as  if  a  Southern  colored  cook  had 
planked  them  on  a  sweet  board  of  maple 
wood.  Hot,  sweet  tea,  bacon,  bread,  and 
pickerel  baked  in  Indian  style,  furnished  the 
boys  a  meal  so  tasty,  that  even  Aunt  Sara  in 
Boston  could  not  have  done  better,  except 


A  BAD  NIGHT  103 

for  a  pudding  or  a  pie,  which  one  should  not 
expect  in  camp. 

There  were  few  dishes  to  wash,  because 
the  boys  never  took  anything  but  two  cups 
and  a  tin  pail.  After  supper  they  caught  a 
mess  of  fish  and  then  watched  several  wild 
ducks  and  geese  with  their  broods  of  young. 

In  a  marsh  close  by,  the  large  golden- 
headed  blackbirds,  among  the  show  birds  of 
the  plains,  sang  their  strange,  reedy  matin 
chorus,  a  song  that  sounds  like  an  evolution 
of  the  music  of  the  west  wind  in  the  dry 
reeds. 

A  pair  of  night-hawks  objected  vigor- 
ously to  the  presence  of  the  lads.  They 
screamed  and  swooped  down  on  them  with 
that  strange  whirr  of  wings,  which  is  quite 
terrifying  to  one  who  does  not  know  that 
the  night-hawk  is  but  a  harmless  cousin  of 
the  whippoorwill,  and  like  the  whippoorwill, 
never  kills  or  harms  anything  bigger  than 
bugs  and  moths  and  other  flying  insects. 

The  boys  looked  hard  for  the  eggs  or  the 
young,  but  if  either  were  present  among 
the  scant  grass  on  the  stony  groimd,  they 


104    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

blended  so  completely  with  their  surround- 
ing that  it  was  impossible  to  find  them  by 
looking  for  them. 

"  Let  us  go  home  by  moonlight,"  sug- 
gested Don.  "  Joe  won't  care.  He  said  he 
would  hang  out  a  lantern,  if  we  were  not 
home  by  dark." 

Hank  was  only  too  willing  to  stay  out  as 
long  as  possible.  So  they  played  about  on 
the  beach,  skipped  stones  on  the  water  and 
listened  again  to  the  call  of  ducks  and  rails 
and  the  reedy  song  of  the  golden-heads. 

Mixed  in  with  the  chorus  of  the  golden- 
heads  was  a  strange  little  watery  song, 
which,  Don  said,  sounded  as  if  the  bird  has 
his  bill  full  of  gravel  and  water,  "  Zid-zid- 
zid-zidderee  "  the  little  songster  seemed  to 
say  over  and  over  again.  The  lads  waded 
into  the  marsh  and  found  that  the  song  came 
from  a  small  marsh-wren  with  a  long, 
slender  bill. 

Neither  the  golden-heads  nor  the  marsh- 
wrens  were  at  all  alarmed.  "  Look  aroimd," 
they  seemed  to  say.  "  We  don't  often  have 
callers.     Make  yourselves  at  home." 


A  BAD  NIGHT  105 

The  boys  soon  found  the  odd  nest  of  the 
marsh-wren.  In  fact,  they  found  many  of 
them,  looking  like  mouse-nests  made  of  balls 
of  dry  grass.  Many  of  them  seemed  to  be 
dummies,  at  least  they  were  empty,  and  the 
lads  could  not  understand  why  the  birds 
had  built  them ;  nor  have  bird  students  even 
of  this  day  learned  the  secret. 

When  the  sun  had  set  and  the  fireflies  be- 
gan to  light  up  the  marsh  and  the  meadow 
Avith  a  thousand  darting  sparks,  the  lads 
built  a  big  camp-fire  of  driftwood  and  sat 
talking  of  Boston  and  of  their  father  in  far- 
away Bozeman. 

After  an  hour  they  poured  water  on  the 
fire  and  started  for  camp.  When  they  had 
passed  the  shelter  of  the  timber  they  noted 
that  a  fresh  breeze  had  sprung  up,  and  when 
they  reached  the  lake,  the  whitecaps  had  be- 
gun to  show,  and  black  clouds  were  piling 
up  in  the  west,  looking  quite  terrifying,  as 
sheets  of  sharp  streaks  of  lightning  played 
over  the  dark  background. 

"  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  those  clouds," 
Hank  said.     "  Perhaps  we  had  better  run 


106     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

back  in  the  bay.  We  could  sleep  under  the 
canoe  and  go  home  in  the  morning." 

"  We  can  make  it  in  an  hour  and  a  half, 
if  we  run  straight  for  the  landing.  Joe  will 
hang  out  a  lantern  for  us;  but  he  will  be 
worried  if  we  don't  come  home,"  Don  sug- 
gested. 

When  they  had  been  going  half  an  hour, 
they  found  that  wind  and  waves  were  rap- 
idly increasing,  for  the  west  wind  has  a  long 
sweep  over  the  main  body  of  Lake  Minne- 
waukan. 

"  We  had  better  turn  back  or  strike  out 
for  shore,"  said  Don.  "  I  am  afraid  we 
can't  make  it." 

"We  can't  turn  around  now,"  replied 
Hank,  "  and  if  we  go  in  the  troughs  of  the 
waves,  we'll  get  swamped.  Pull  hard !  I'm 
afraid  the  storm  will  catch  us." 

By  this  time  it  was  dark.  Pitch  dark,  the 
boys  would  have  called  it,  if  they  had  had 
either  breath  or  time  left  to  talk.  Both  were 
pulling  on  their  paddles  as  hard  as  they 
could.  They  knew  that  they  were  making  a 
run  for  their  lives. 


A  BAD  NIGHT  107 

Hank  did  not  look  for  any  lantern  at  the 
landing.  He  was  no  longer  trying  to  reach 
the  landing  at  the  fort,  he  was  doing  his  ut- 
most to  keep  the  canoe  headed  with  the  wind 
and  to  make  shore;  just  make  shore  any- 
where. 

But  only  when  the  lightning  flashed,  could 
he  see  the  black  fringe  of  woods  still  three 
miles  ahead. 

"Drop  your  paddle  and  bail!  Bail  her 
out!"  he  shouted  to  make  himself  heard 
through  the  wild  roar  of  waves  and  thunder. 
"She  is  filling!" 

Don  bailed  and  bailed,  till  his  arms  felt 
numb,  but  still  he  kept  on  bailing.  If  he 
could  keep  the  canoe  afloat,  they  might  stifl 
reach  shore,  for  they  were  fairly  flying  along 
before  the  wind. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  heavy  thud.  The 
canoe  came  to  a  dead  stop.  A  rock  pushed 
through  the  bottom  of  it;  the  boys  fell  for- 
ward, and  the  furious  waves  rushed  over 
them. 

"  Get  out! "  shouted  Hank,  as  soon  as  he 
had  his   head   above   water   again.      "  We 


108     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

struck    the     boulder    reef     and     smashed 
her!" 

Some  large  black  rocks  loomed  up  a  few 
yards  ahead.  Half  stumblmg  and  half 
swimming,  both  lads  made  for  the  big  rocks 
and  clung  to  them. 

"  Take  your  belt  off!  "  Hank  called.  And 
by  tying  his  and  Don's  belt  together,  he 
made  a  rope  to  throw  around  the  projecting 
rock. 

"Now  catch  hold  of  the  life  rope!"  he 
called.  "  If  you're  washed  off,  you'll 
drown ! " 

Every  minute  the  wild  uproar  grew 
wilder.  Again  and  again  a  big  swashing 
wave  rolled  its  white  foam  clear  over  the 
rock  and  the  heads  of  the  lads,  lifting  the 
boys  off  their  feet  one  second  and  setting 
them  down  again  the  next.  They  gulped  a 
mouthful  of  air,  when  their  heads  were  above 
the  waves,  and  held  their  breath  while  the 
next  wave  rushed  over  them. 

And  then  the  clouds  opened,  and  the  rain 
poured  down,  whipped  into  a  whirling  spray 
by  the  gale. 


Every  minute  the  wild  uproar  «r^W  wiLUER.^Pape  20^. 


A  BAD  NIGHT  109 

For  a  moment  the  boys  despaired ;  but  be- 
fore they  realized  it,  the  fury  of  the  waves 
was  broken  by  the  splashing  rain.  They  still 
swished  and  rushed  madly  over  the  reef,  but 
they  no  longer  broke  over  the  heads  of  the 
boys.  It  was  as  if  some  divine  power  had 
said,  "  Thou  shalt  not  roll  higher!  " 

The  boys  had  never  before  observed  this 
apparent  miracle  of  nature,  but  any  man 
whose  life  has  ever  been  endangered  on  a 
wild  wind-swept  lake,  knows  that  a  pouring 
rain  will  break  the  tumultuous  roll  of  the 
whitecaps. 

Within  half  an  hour,  although  it  seemed 
many  times  that  long  to  the  marooned  boys, 
the  waves  had  subsided  much;  and  in  an 
hour,  the  lake  was  almost  quiet. 

It  was  only  now  that  the  lads  had  time  to 
think  from  how  great  a  danger  they  had 
escaped. 

"  I  thought  we  were  headed  half  a  mile 
south  of  this  reef,"  said  Hank;  "  and  I  did 
not  see  it  before  we  crashed  down  on  it." 

"  It  was  our  luck  to  strike  the  reef,"  Don 
replied.     "  We  never  could  have  reached 


110     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

shore,  for  I  could  not  have  bailed  much 
longer. 

"  Couldn't  we  swim  to  shore  now?  I  am 
getting  awfully  chilled." 

"  We  would  never  make  it,  Don,"  Hank 
objected.  "It  is  two  miles  to  the  nearest 
shore  on  the  north  side,  and  we  are  too  much 
exhausted.  We  could  never  make  it.  We 
just  have  to  stay  here  till  daylight. 

"  Sit  down  in  the  water,"  suggested  Hank 
after  a  while.  "  It  is  much  warmer  than  the 
air.  It  is  a  shame  to  worry  Joe  and  all  our 
friends.     They  must  think  we  are  drowned." 

"  Maybe  they  think  we  camped  on  shore 
with  a  nice  big  fire,"  Don  suggested. 

"  Well,  they  might  give  us  credit  for 
more  sense  than  we  had,"  admitted  Hank. 
"  We  shall  never  hear  the  last  of  this  reef." 

Don  had  not  realized  that  a  night  could 
be  so  long.  The  boys  waded  and  swam 
around  on  the  reef,  they  sat  down  in  the 
water,  and  for  a  change,  climbed  on  the  rock, 
but  it  seemed  as  if  morning  would  never 
come.  Once,  while  sitting  down  and  leaning 
against    the    rock,    Don    fell    asleep    and 


A  BAD  NIGHT  111 

tumbled  headlong  into  the  water,  from 
which  he  arose  spitting  and  blowing,  much  to 
the  amusement  of  his  older  brother. 

"Why  don't  you  wade  into  deep  water 
and  close  your  mouth  if  j^ou  wish  to  dive?  " 
Hank  joked  at  his  expense. 

"Ah,  shut  up!"  Don  replied  angrily. 
"  You  smashed  the  canoe." 

"  Yes,  and  you  did  not  want  to  camp  on 
shore,  Crosspatch,"  retorted  Hank,  still 
laughing  at  the  accident  of  Don. 

It  was  still  dark  when  they  saw  a  light 
moving  about  on  shore  near  Fort  Totten, 
Then  the  light  settled  do^^^l  low  on  the 
water  and  seemed  to  be  coming  toward  the 
reef. 

"  It's  Joe,  it's  Joe!  "  Don  called,  "  coming 
after  us  with  a  boat.     Brr!     I'm  cold!  " 

Now  a  gun  was  fired  from  the  boat  and 
the  boys  yelled  in  reply  as  loud  as  they 
could. 

The  boat  came  nearer,  but  it  seemed  to  be 
going  very  slowly.  jSTow  another  gun  was 
fired,  and  again  the  boys  yelled  their  best  in 
reply. 


112     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Never  had  the  boys  watched  anythmg  as 
intently  as  they  watched  that  light  creeping 
slowly  over  the  water.  But  horrors!  The 
boat  was  not  headed  for  the  reef.  It  would 
pass  at  least  half  a  mile  south  of  them. 

When  the  boat  came  opposite  the  reef,  a 
faint  gray  light  began  to  spread  over  the 
water,  and  the  lads  thought  they  could  make 
out  the  shape  of  two  men.  Another  shot 
was  fired  from  the  boat,  which  was  now 
passing  them  at  a  good  rate  of  speed. 

Again  the  lads  used  their  lung  power 
to  the  utmost,  but  the  boat  kept  on  its 
course. 

Hank  stripped  off  his  shirt,  climbed  on 
the  rock,  yelled  his  loudest  and  waved  the 
shirt  frantically  over  his  head. 

"  Here!  "  exclaimed  Don,  "  take  my  shirt, 
too."  And  once  more  both  lads  shouted, 
Don  in  a  shrill  soprano,  Hank  in  a  manly 
bass ;  but  the  boat  kept  on  its  course. 

"  Give  them  the  Sioux  war-whoop!  "  cried 
Don. 

"  Ki-yi!  Ki-yi,  Ki-yi,"  both  screamed  with 
all  their  might,  and  Hank  waved  his  shirts 


A  BAD  i^IGHT  113 

so  violently  that  he  slipped  and  tumbled 
backward  into  the  lake. 

"  They  heard  it!  They  heard  it!  "  cried 
Don,  at  the  same  time  having  his  laugh  at  his 
brother's  mishap.  "  They're  coming,  Hank! 
It  is  Joe  and  Cactus  Pete." 

"  What  in  all  tarnation  business  are  you 
blooming  kids  doing  on  this  reef?  "  cried  Joe 
when  he  came  within  speaking  distance. 

"  Where  is  your  canoe? "  asked  Cactus 
Pete. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Hank  admitted  humbly. 
"  I  smashed  it  right  here  on  the  rocks." 

"  Where  are  your  gims?  " 

"  In  the  lake  here,  on  the  reef  somewhere," 
Hank  answered  glumly.  "  We  hunted  for 
them,  but  we  couldn't  find  them." 

"  Well,  I'll  be  darned,"  Joe  expressed  his 
feelings,  "  if  you  aren't  the  foolest  kids  I 
ever  saw.  Why,  in  thunder,  didn't  you  stay 
on  shore?  I'm  going  to  ship  you  right  back 
to  Boston.  I  would  never  get  you  alive  to 
Bozeman  anyhow. 

"  Hop  in,  now.  Pete,  we  had  better  take 
them  home,  pour  some  hot  coffee  into  them, 


114     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

and  put  them  to  bed.  They  look  pretty 
blue  around  the  gills.  We  can  hunt  for  the 
guns  and  the  canoe  some  other  thne." 

A  group  of  soldiers  and  Indians  was  wait- 
ing on  shore  when  the  boat  landed.  All 
seemed  to  be  glad  that  the  boys  were  alive, 
but  that  was  as  far  as  their  sympathy  went. 
The  soldiers  laughed  and  their  remarks  con- 
tained nothing  flattering  to  the  shipwrecked 
lads,  Joe's  Boston  kids,  as  the  soldiers  called 
them. 

The  Indians  laughed  even  more  than  the 
soldiers  when  they  understood  where  the 
boys  had  spent  the  night. 

"  Fool  white  boys! "  remarked  old  Black 
Thunder.  "  Go  on  Minnewaukan  in  storm. 
Indian  camp  on  shore." 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  TEMPTATION 

Cactus  Pete  had  become  so  much  inter- 
ested in  the  boys  that  he  wanted  to  go  out 
on  the  same  day  and  look  for  the  canoe  and 
the  guns,  but  Joe  thought  they  had  better 
take  the  boys  along  for  that  purpose;  some- 
body might  have  to  do  a  little  diving  on  that 
errand. 

The  boys  had  never  found  dry  clothing,  a 
warm  room,  and  a  hot  breakfast  quite  so 
agreeable,  for  when  they  landed  they  were 
so  shivering  with  cold  that  they  could  hardly 
walk  to  their  cabin. 

When  the  bugler  sounded  mess  call  for 
dinner,  they  were  still  sound  asleep;  and 
they  would  have  missed  supper  also,  if  Joe 
had  not  called  them. 

Toward  five  o'clock  Joe  aroused  them. 

"  Get  up  now,  boys,"  he  told  them.    ''  The 

bugler  will  call  supper  pretty  soon." 

115 


116     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Call  supper? "  Don  asked  rubbing  his 
eyes.  "  Did  we  miss  dinner?  I  sure  slept 
some." 

Next  morning  the  lads  and  their  two 
friends  began  to  look  for  the  canoe  and  the 
guns.  Joe  had  expected  to  find  the  canoe 
on  shore,  probably  smashed  beyond  repair, 
but  there  was  no  canoe  to  be  seen,  although 
they  made  a  careful  search  for  it. 

"  Where  did  you  lose  your  guns?  "  asked 
Pete. 

"  They  were  in  the  canoe  when  we 
struck,"  the  boys  claimed. 

"  Joe,"  Cactus  Pete  suggested,  "  the  ca- 
noe must  have  been  swept  off  the  reef  into 
deep  water.  I  calculate  that  it  is  lying 
somewhere  on  the  bottom,  with  the  guns  in 
it." 

So  they  rowed  to  the  reef  and,  with  a  hook 
fixed  to  a  long  pole,  they  began  to  drag  for 
the  canoe,  and  after  a  good  deal  of  work, 
they  raised  the  canoe  out  of  ten  feet  of 
water.  Both  guns  were  still  in  the  canoe, 
which  had  one  large  hole  in  the  bottom. 

Old  Chief  Black  Thunder  found  a  piece 


THE  TEMPTATION  117 

of  birch  bark,  which  his  squaw  had  brought 
from  Minnesota,  and  showed  the  boys  how 
to  patch  the  hole,  so  the  canoe  would  be  as 
good  as  before.  The  only  things  which 
the  boys  did  not  recover  were  their  hats  and 
their  fishing  tackle.  Their  hats  had  been 
blown  off  long  before  the  canoe  struck  the 
reef,  and  the  boys  never  saAv  them  again. 

Cactus  Pete  told  them  that  it  was  lucky 
for  them  that  they  had  struck  the  reef.  If 
they  had  not,  they  surely  would  have  lost 
their  valuable  guns,  and  he  doubted  very 
much  that  they  could  have  drifted  to  shore 
by  holding  on  to  the  swamped  canoe,  even 
if  they  had  had  presence  of  mind  enough  to 
throw  their  guns  overboard. 

"  Don't  you  ever  go  on  this  lake  again," 
he  warned  them,  "  when  a  storm  is  coming 
up." 

The  traders,  after  recovering  from  their 
scare  on  the  Souris,  decided  to  start  east  for 
Minnesota;  where  they  hoped  to  sell  their 
goods  to  the  friendly  Chippewas  east  of  Red 
River.     The  commander  of  the  fort,  partly 


118    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

to  see  them  safely  off  and  partly  to  keep  his 
men  in  condition,  furnished  them  an  escort 
for  the  first  fifty  miles,  and  that  was  the  last 
seen  of  them. 

For  Joe  and  his  boys  the  stay  at  Lake 
Minnewaukan  turned  out  to  be  much  longer 
than  they  had  expected;  for  the  commander 
refused  to  let  them  start  for  Montana  with- 
out direct  orders  from  the  Department 
Headquarters  at  St.  Paul. 

There  was  no  telegraph  connection  be- 
tween Fort  Totten  and  St.  Paul  in  those 
days,  and  the  mail  came  through  very  slowly 
and  irregularly. 

"  If  you  and  the  boys  will  give  your  word 
not  to  leave  without  a  permit,  you  can  stay 
here,"  the  commander  told  them,  "  otherwise 
I  shall  send  you  back  east  with  the  traders." 

It  was  a  hard  choice  for  Joe  and  his  boys. 

"Why  don't  you  start  with  the  traders?" 
the  post  saddler  suggested  to  Joe.  "  After 
the  escort  has  left  you,  you  can  turn  around 
and  start  for  Montana,  and  the  commander 
will  know  nothing  about  it.  These  officers 
think  they  are  running  the  country." 


THE  TEMPTATION  119 

Joe  bit  his  moustache  and  looked  at  the 
boys,  and  the  boys  looked  at  him. 

"  We  would  like  to  start  awfully  well,  Old 
Knives.  But  your  way  wouldn't  do. 
Would  it?" 

"Why  wouldn't  it?"  the  old  saddler  ar- 
gued. "  I  don't  think  Colonel  Hunt  would 
care,  if  he  knew.  If  you  are  in  a  hurry  to 
get  away,  that's  the  way  to  do  it." 

"It  won't  do,  Gill.  It  won't  do!"  Joe 
decided.  "  The  captain's  men  saved  our 
lives,  he  has  his  orders  and  he  is  much  con- 
cerned about  our  safety.  We  can't  do  any- 
thing underhanded  against  him." 

"  Joe,  you  are  the  most  squeamish  fellow 
I  ever  met.  I  suppose  you  wouldn't  even 
desert,  no  matter  how  dead  things  were  in  an 
old  fort  like  this." 

"  No,  you  bet  I  would  not,"  Joe  flashed 
back  at  the  old  man.  "  I  enlisted  twice  and 
stuck  out  my  time,  but  life  was  not  dull 
while  we  were  with  Custer." 

"  Well,  I  think  you  are  foolish,"  the  old 
saddler  persisted.     "  Who  cares,  anyhow?  " 

"  That's  the  way  a  lot  of  you  fellows  talk," 


120     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Joe  retorted,  getting  angry.  "  Who  cares? 
What's  the  difference?  If  nobody  else 
cares,  every  man  himself  should  care, 
whether  he  is  doing  an  honorable  thing  or  a 
sneaky  thing." 

"All  right,  Joe,"  Gill  came  back  with  a 
final  remark.  "  I  can't  see  it  as  you  do.  I 
am  off  to  my  shop." 

Joe  talked  the  prospects  over  with  the 
boys  and  they  agreed  with  him  that  the  plan 
Gill  had  suggested  was  underhanded. 

So  they  gave  their  word  to  Colonel  Hunt, 
and  the  traders  started  for  Red  River  with- 
out Joe  and  his  boys. 

On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day,  the  sol- 
diers who  had  escorted  the  traders  returned 
to  Fort  Totten.  They  had  seen  several 
small  parties  of  Indians,  who  had,  however, 
not  come  within  hailing  distance.  Whether 
they  were  friendly  hunting  parties  from  the 
Devil's  Lake  Reservation,  or  whether  they 
belonged  to  the  renegade  bands  in  Manitoba, 
the  soldiers  did  not  know. 

With  the  next  mail  Colonel  Hunt  received 
a  letter  from  Walsh  Rankin.     The  traders 


THE  TEMPTATION  121 

had  safely  reached  the  settlements  east  of 
the  Red  River,  but  not  without  more  fight- 
ing. Some  Indians  had  run  off  all  their  ex- 
tra horses,  and  they  had  barely  saved  their 
goods  and  their  lives. 

"  If  Joe  and  his  Boston  boys  still  wish  to 
cross  the  Sioux  country  to  Bozeman,  we 
wish  them  joy  and  happiness,"  the  letter 
ended.  "  We  are  glad  to  be  back  among 
white  people  with  our  scalps  still  on." 


CHAPTER  XII 

CACTUS   PETE 

To  say  that  Joe  and  the  boys  were  always 
glad  that  they  had  not  left  with  the  traders 
would  not  be  telling  the  truth. 

"  Durn  it  all,  Pete,"  Joe  one  day  gave 
vent  to  his  impatience  while  talking  to  his 
old  friend,  "  this  is  the  longest  I  have  ever 
been  under  arrest  in  all  my  born  years.  I 
almost  wish  I  had  enlisted  again,  then  my 
time  would  be  laid  out  for  me  and  I  would 
know  what  to  do.  I  wonder  if  the  Colonel 
would  mind  if  the  boys  and  I  went  out 
scouting  and  hunting  now  and  then  with  the 
soldiers?  " 

Cactus  Pete  soon  came  with  word  that  the 
Colonel  would  be  glad  to  have  Joe  and  the 
boys  go  with  the  soldiers,  whenever  they  felt 
like  it. 

The  boys  as  well  as  Joe  made  frequent 

use  of  this  permit,  and  the  boys  learned 

122 


CACTUS  PETE  123 

much  about  the  plains  and  about  the  men 
with  whom  they  travelled. 

It  was  at  the  evening  camp-fire  on  one  of 
these  scouting  trips  that  Cactus  Pete  told 
the  boys  how  he  came  by  his  nickname. 

"  It  was  in  the  Yellowstone  campaign  of 
1873  under  Stanley.  I  was  carrying  dis- 
patches to  Fort  Buford.  The  country  was 
dangerous,  and  I  had  gone  alone  because  one 
man  can  conceal  himself  so  much  better  than 
two  or  three.  I  had  provisions  for  four  days 
and  rode  the  best  horse  in  my  company. 
The  first  two  days  out  I  was  pretty  careful. 
I  lay  up  during  the  day,  like  an  owl,  and 
travelled  at  night.  I  saw  many  Indians. 
The  country  seemed  to  be  alive  with  them. 
Once  I  thought  they  had  me.  I  had  laid  up 
for  the  day  in  some  willows  in  a  ravine  not 
more  than  fifty  yards  from  a  spring. 

"Late  in  the  afternoon  I  suddenly  saw 
five  or  six  Indians  come  down  from  the 
prairie  into  the  ravine.  They  were  on  foot, 
but  were  all  armed,  and  I  figured  that  they 
had  left  their  horses  and  were  coming  to  the 
spring  for  a  drink.     My  horse  was  grazing 


124     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

near  the  willows,  in  plain  sight  from  the 
spring. 

"  It  did  not  take  me  long  to  hustle  that 
horse  mider  cover.  Then  I  lay  down  to 
watch.  If  they  came  to  that  little  willow 
thicket,  they  could  not  help  almost  rmming 
into  me. 

"  They  looked  at  the  spring  and  talked. 
*  Somebody  has  been  here ! '  that  is  what  they 
said,  I  reckon.  Fortunately  the  ground  near 
the  spring  was  stony  and  showed  no  tracks, 
and  I  had  taken  care  not  to  make  any  sort  of 
a  trail  to  my  camp.  Oh,  I  was  mighty  care- 
ful on  that  trip. 

"  They  all  took  a  drink,  and  then  sat  down 
to  smoke.  Believe  me,  no  smoke  ever  lasted 
so  long  to  me.  At  last  they  arose.  That 
was  the  moment  I  had  my  rifle  ready  and  my 
pistols  handy.  If  they  were  on  foot,  they 
would  come  down  the  trail  through  the  wil- 
lows and  couldn't  help  discovering  me. 

"  They  went  the  other  way,  and  I  knew 
they  were  a  party  on  horseback.  I  had  been 
thinking  of  starting  a  small  fire  for  cooking 
supper,  just  before  I  saw  them  against  the 


CACTUS  PETE  125 

sky  on  the  edge  of  the  ravine.  I  decided 
that  a  little  fire  in  my  old  pipe  was  all  the  fire 
I  really  wanted  that  evening." 

"  That  was  the  time  you  were  scared, 
Pete,"  Joe  bantered  his  old  friend. 

"  It  was  one  of  the  times,  but  not  the  only 
time,"  Pete  frankly  admitted.  **  But  at  this 
place  I  had  plenty  of  time  to  get  over  being 
scared  and  plan  what  to  do." 

"  What  could  you  have  done,  if  they  had 
come  down  the  trail?  "  asked  Joe. 

"Turned  the  game  on  them!"  replied 
Pete  grimly.  *'  They  were  all  painted  for 
war,  but  I  saw  them  first,  and  I  could  shoot 
seven  times  without  reloading." 

Then  Pete  told  how  he  had  travelled  all 
night,  and  the  next  morning  had  laid  up  in  a 
place  where  it  w^as  possible  to  slip  away  in 
more  than  one  direction. 

"  During  the  day  I  gave  Bones,  that  was 
the  name  of  my  horse,  the  last  oats  I  had 
taken  along,  for  I  expected  to  make  Fort 
Buford  by  morning.  I  crawled  up  to  a 
ridge  several  times  and  scouted  in  regular 
Indian  fashion  by  lying  flat  on  my  stomach 


126     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

and  peering  long  in  every  direction.  But 
not  a  sign  of  Indians  could  I  discover.  No 
smoke,  no  tepee,  no  horsemen  or  ponies,  no 
game  running  as  if  hunters  had  disturbed  it. 

"  So  I  built  a  small  fire  and  cooked  me  a 
good  supper,  and  about  sunset  I  started  on 
the  last  stretch  for  Fort  Buford. 

"  When  it  was  getting  dusky,  I  was  jog- 
ging along  at  a  good  gait  and  sort  of  con- 
gratulating myself  that  I  had  done  a  right 
smart  thing,  and  that  I  would  be  twenty -five 
dollars  better  off  for  carrying  the  dispatches. 

"  Just  before  I  turned  the  corner  of  some 
rocks  I  stopped  to  listen.  I  heard  some 
noise,  but  thought  it  came  from  buffaloes  or 
elk;  and  the  next  moment  half  a  dozen  Sioux 
were  almost  on  top  of  me.  I  think  there 
were  about  six  of  them,  but  I  took  no  time  to 
count  them.  '  The  same  bunch  looking  for 
you ! '  it  flashed  through  my  mind.  Well,  be- 
fore they  could  surround  me  or  make  a  rush 
at  me,  I  fired  my  rifle  at  them  and  a  couple 
of  pistol  shots,  so  as  to  give  me  a  start  for  a 
place  where  I  could  make  a  stand,  half  a  mile 
back. 


CACTUS  PETE  127 

"  But  Bones  had  gotten  scared.  Maybe 
he  was  hit,  too,  for  it  seemed  to  me  the  whole 
gang  fired  at  us  at  once.  Anyway,  I  could 
not  control  him.  He  dashed  wildly  up  a  ra- 
vine with  me,  stumbled  over  some  hole  or 
rock,  and  I  was  pitched  over  his  head  and 
landed  flat  on  my  back  in  a  cactus-bed 
among  a  jumble  of  rocks. 

"  I  have  always  been  surprised  that  I  did 
not  let  out  a  yell.  But,  at  first,  I  reckon  I 
was  too  excited  and  then  I  was  too  scared. 

"  Bones  got  up  right  away.  But  he  didn't 
wait  for  me,  and  two  reds  dashed  after  him 
and  caught  him.  Twice  they  passed  me  so 
close  that  I  felt  they  would  see  me,  but  they 
didn't.  It  was  getting  pretty  dark  and  the 
rocks  kind  of  hid  me  from  sight. 

"  They  hurried  away  with  Bones,  and  I 
guess  he  hasn't  eaten  any  oats  since." 

"  Didn't  they  come  back  to  look  for  you?  " 
asked  Don. 

"  No;  their  natural  caution  saved  my  life. 
Those  who  caught  Bones  must  have  been 
very  young  men,  for  an  old  warrior  would 
have  reasoned  that  I  had  dismounted  and 


128    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

concealed  myself,  and  he  would  have  fol- 
loAved  me  into  that  gulch. 

"As  soon  as  I  felt  safe,  I  picked  myself  off 
the  cactus-bed.  After  a  while  I  found  my 
rifle  and  crept  out  of  the  gulch  the  other 
way.  I  was  terribly  sore,  but  I  reached 
Fort  Buford  the  next  day;  where  the  sur- 
geon and  my  friends  took  me  in  hand." 

"  Pretty  near  bedtime,  lads,"  Pete  re- 
marked after  a  while.  "  Good-night,  boys! 
I  hope  you  will  not  dream  of  rattlesnakes  or 
cactus-beds ! " 


CHAPTER  XIII 

WORSE  PROSPECTS 

In  this  way  the  lads  put  in  their  time  very 
profitably.  Not  only  did  they  become  sea- 
soned horsemen  and  scouts ;  they  also  learned 
a  good  deal  about  the  Indians  and  their 
ways,  for  about  one  thousand  Sioux,  all  sup- 
posed to  be  friendly,  lived  at  that  time  on 
their  reservation  at  Devil's  Lake. 

Altogether,  about  20,000  Sioux  were  al- 
ready at  that  time  living  on  various  reserva- 
tions east  of  the  Missouri  River. 

It  was  only  the  Western  Sioux  and  North- 
ern Cheyennes  who  were  openly  hostile,  and 
threatened  to  kill  every  white  man  who  went 
upon  their  large  reservation  without  their 
consent.  And  that  they  were  ready  to  carry 
out  their  threat  they  had  shown  on  many  oc- 
casions. Why  the  government  did  not  more 
conscientiously  keep  the  treaty  made  with 

these  tribes  in  1868  has  never  been  explained 

129 


130     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

and  is  one  of  the  dark  blots  on  the  fair  his- 
tory of  the  United  States. 

About  the  first  of  August  Colonel  Hunt 
heard  from  Department  Headquarters  at 
St.  Paul  that  the  three  men  bound  for  Mon- 
tana might  go,  but  the  letter  stated  that  the 
commander  considered  such  a  journey  at  this 
time  extremely  dangerous  without  a  strong 
military  escort,  whie-.  cne  department  could 
not  furnish. 

By  this  time,  however,  Joe  seemed  no 
longer  desirous  to  start. 

He  had  become  convinced  that  the  many 
reports  and  rumors  which  had  reached  Fort 
Totten  in  various  ways  were  only  too  true. 

There  was  a  steamer,  the  Josephine,  ex- 
ploring the  Yellowstone.  She  had  gone  up 
as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the  Big  Horn  and 
some  forty  miles  beyond  to  Pompey's  Pillar. 
This  so-called  pillar  is  a  lone  rock  on  which 
Captain  Clark  of  the  Lewis  and  Clark  expe- 
dition had  inscribed  his  name,  "  Wm.  Clark, 
July  25,  1806."  This  inscription  may  be 
seen  on  Pompey's  Tower,  as  Lewis  and 
Clark  called  it,  to  this  very  day. 


WORSE  PROSPECTS  131 

General  J.  W.  Forsyth  was  on  the  Yel- 
lowstone with  some  troops.  Soldiers  in  that 
country  could  do  no  good,  unless  they  were 
able  to  inflict  a  crushing  defeat  on  the  hostile 
tribes. 

What  did  it  all  mean?  Was  the  govern- 
ment preparing  a  winter  campaign?  Or 
were  all  these  moves  preparatory  for  a  real 
war  against  the  Sioux  the  next  year,  in  the 
summer  of  1876? 

Joe  and  Pete  had  long  discussions  about 
it.  *'  If  the  government  cannot  or  will  not 
keep  white  men  off  the  Sioux  reservation," 
Pete  gave  as  his  opinion,  "  and  the  Indians 
will  not  consent  to  another  treaty,  it  is  high 
time  the  government  shows  its  authority  and 
power.  As  it  is,  the  Indians  are  getting 
bolder  and  more  desperate  every  day.  We 
gave  up  Fort  Phil  Kearney,  after  we  buried 
many  of  our  best  soldiers  there.  The  Sioux 
know  that  they  have  reached  their  last  buf- 
falo grounds.  White  skin-hunters  are 
slaughtering  the  animals  by  tens  of  thou- 
sands every  year. 

"  If  the  white  men  are  allowed  to  hunt  on 


132    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

their  last  big  reservation,  the  buffaloes  will 
be  killed  off.  The  Indians  will  have  noth- 
ing to  eat,  and  the  old  days  are  gone,  gone 
forever! 

"  It  will  take  a  big  force  to  compel  these 
brave  tribes  to  give  up  the  wild,  free  life  of 
their  ancestors  and  live  on  small  reserva- 
tions, where  they  must  raise  stock,  farm,  and 
depend  on  rations  from  the  government." 

"  Yes,"  admitted  Joe  sadly,  "  these  are 
bad  days  for  the  free  Indian.  It  looks  as  if 
the  old  days  were  coming  rapidly  to  an 
end." 

"  Thar's  going  to  be  some  big  fights  afore 
they  come  to  an  end,"  predicted  Pete,  falling 
into  his  Plains  dialect.  "  If  I  could  get  into 
it,  I  sure  would  enlist  again,  but  sticking 
around  here  at  Fort  Totten  is  pretty  dead 
business." 

"  Pete,  I  have  had  enough  of  the  regular 
Indian  war  since  our  big  fight  on  the  Wa- 
shita. You  know,  Pete,  when  you  surprise 
an  Indian  camp,  they  will  all  fight,  men, 
squaws,  and  boys.  White  people  would  do 
the  same.     Now,  I  don't  mind  going  after 


WORSE  PROSPECTS  133 

these  painted  warriors,  but  having  to  fight 
squaws  and  boys  or  be  killed  by  them,  that 
goes  against  me. 

"  Going  after  these  roaming  bands  of 
thieves  and  murderers  suits  me  well  enough. 
I  would  delight  in  a  chance  to  run  down  Ink- 
padoota  and  his  band  of  cutthroats,  who 
have  killed  and  robbed  harmless  whites  these 
twenty  years.  They  are  living  in  Canada 
now,  I  hear,  but  nobody  knows  where  they 
are  roaming  about." 

"  When  are  you  going  to  start  west  with 
the  lads?  "  asked  Pete  after  a  while. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Joe  gloomily.  "  I 
am  afraid  to  risk  the  lives  of  the  boys,  for  I 
don't  think  we  would  ever  get  through." 

"  Right  you  are,"  Pete  admitted.  "  It 
was  never  so  dangerous  to  cross  the  plains  as 
it  is  now.  You  would  be  sure  to  fall  in  with 
parties  from  Canada,  or  from  the  rene- 
gades at  Fort  Peck  in  Montana.  In  fact,  I 
don't  trust  any  of  them.  They  are  all  dan- 
gerous now;  and  the  big  prairie  tells  no 
tales." 

"  ^^Hiy  don't  you  make  a  dash  in  the  win- 


134    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

ter?  They  lie  pretty  low  during  the  cold 
weather,"  suggested  Pete. 

"  I  have  thought  of  that,"  Joe  replied. 
"  But  I  am  afraid  of  the  blizzards  in  this 
northern  country.  Freezing  to  death  is  as 
bad  as  being  killed  by  Indians.  Travelling 
in  winter  was  bad  enough  down  south ;  but  it 
would  be  much  worse  in  this  country." 

"An  old  campaigner  like  you  could  take 
care  of  himself.  If  a  blizzard  catches  you, 
you  den  up  till  the  storm  is  over." 

"  Yes,  if  you  happen  to  be  in  a  country 
where  you  can  find  shelter,"  Joe  agreed.  "  I 
will  think  it  over.  Maybe  a  winter  jour- 
ney would  offer  our  only  chance  of  getting 
through." 

Both  sat  in  silence  for  a  time.  Pete's 
term  of  enlistment  expired  the  first  of  No- 
vember, and  Joe  had  often  wondered  what 
the  old  soldier  would  do  then.  Would  he 
enlist  again?  If  he  did,  Pete  would  be  a 
soldier  for  life.  The  type  was  not  uncom- 
mon on  the  plains  in  those  days.  Many  of 
them  were  men  without  near  relatives  or 
friends.    The  United  States  Army  was  their 


WORSE  PROSPECTS  135 

family,  and  the  lone  military  post  on  the  In- 
dian frontier  was  their  home.  Brave  and 
hardy  men  they  were,  who  cheerfully  volun- 
teered for  the  most  dangerous  duties  of  the 
service. 

When  explorers  and  surveyors  needed 
fearless  helpers,  who  always,  and  as  a  matter 
of  habit,  first  thought  of  the  work  to  be  done 
and  last  of  their  o^vn  safety  and  comfort, 
they  chose  men  who  had  served  as  regulars 
in  the  United  States  Army.  These  un- 
kno^vn  regulars  and  the  officers  trained  at 
West  Point  have  served  as  a  nucleus  for 
our  army  in  all  of  our  wars,  and  the  country 
owes  them  a  debt,  which  it  can  never  pay. 

In  many  nameless  graves  all  over  the 
Great  Plains  these  veterans  are  sleeping,  in 
the  cemeteries  of  a  hundred  scattered  posts, 
in  the  South,  in  Cuba,  in  the  Philippines, 
and  on  the  battlefields  of  France.  Honor 
to  their  ashes! 

"Can  our  horses  stand  winter  travel?" 
asked  Joe  after  a  while.  "  We  could  not 
carry  forage  for  them." 

"Wall,"  drawled  Pete,  "why  not  take 


136     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

mules?  You  know  most  of  the  army  scouts 
ride  mules.  They  find  their  own  meal  at 
any  time." 

"  Mules? "  repeated  Joe.  "  No  mules  for 
me.  A  horse  is  company  and  sort  of  half 
human ;  but  a  mule  is  always  an  ornery  cross 
of  a  critter.  I  should  be  bad  company  if  I 
had  to  ride  a  mule." 

"All  right,"  growled  Pete.  "Take 
horses,  if  mules  are  not  stylish  enough  for 
you  Boston  fellows.  But  my  advice  is :  take 
mules,  if  you  are  going  to  risk  the  journey 
in  winter." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

JOE  IN  TEOUBLE 

When  Joe  and  his  boys  had  first  arrived 
at  Fort  Totten  they  had  written  to  Thomas 
Stamford  at  Bozeman,  telling  him  what  had 
happened  to  interrupt  their  journey  and  in- 
forming him  that  they  could  not  tell  now 
when  they  would  agam  start  west. 

About  the  middle  of  August  Joe  received 
an  answer  to  his  letter. 

'*  I  would  not  advise  you,"  Stamford 
wrote,  "  to  risk  a  trip  across  the  plains  from 
Fort  Totten.  As  far  as  we  can  learn  here, 
there  are  hunting  parties  and  war  parties  of 
Indians  everywhere.  There  has  been  a 
steamer  on  the  Yellowstone  with  soldiers 
and  a  Gatling  gun,  but  I  fail  to  see  that  they 
have  done  any  good,  no  more  than  all  the 
other  campaigns  on  the  Yellowstone.  They 
have  only  irritated  and  angered  the  Indians. 

"  Some  people  think  there  is  going  to  be  a 

137 


138    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

big  campaign  against  the  Sioux  next  sum- 
mer. All  I  can  say  is  that  it  will  have  to  be 
big,  if  it  is  going  to  accomplish  anything. 

"An  old  trapper  here,  who  knows  many 
Crow  and  Sioux  Indians,  claims  that  the 
hostile  Sioux  and  the  Cheyennes  can  muster 
5,000  warriors,  and  that  the  Indians  are  well 
armed  and  have  plenty  of  ammunition. 
Strange  as  it  seems,  Indians  can  buy  both 
good  rifles  and  ammunition  at  all  the  gov- 
ernment agencies  east  of  the  Missouri.  And 
who  can  tell  where  rifles  and  ammunition  go 
after  they  are  once  turned  over  to  an  Indian? 

"  Perhaps  you  could  get  through  after  the 
Sioux  have  moved  into  their  winter  camps. 
Otherwise  you  had  better  return  to  Minne- 
sota and  come  by  way  of  the  Union  Pacific 
and  the  stage  route  from  Salt  Lake  City." 

When  Joe  showed  this  letter  to  the  boys, 
his  doubts  and  troubles  were  in  no  way  less- 
ened. 

Where  were  all  the  Indians  that  had  the 
5,000  warriors?  the  boys  wanted  to  know. 
If  they  were  camping  and  hunting  south  of 
the  Yellowstone,  the  boys  could  not  see  why 
it  would  not  be  quite  safe  to  travel  westward 
on  a  route  fifty  miles  north  of  the  Yellow- 
stone. 


JOE  m  TEOUBLE  139 

Joe  seemed  to  be  in  an  ugly  mood  on  this 
day. 

"  There  are  a  lot  of  things  you  yoimgsters 
don't  see,"  he  replied  testily,  "  and  a  lot  of 
things  you  forget. 

*'  There  are  a  thousand  Sioux  in  Manitoba 
north  of  us  and  a  thousand  of  them  west  of 
us  on  the  Missouri;  and  there  must  be  15,000 
of  them  south  of  the  Yellowstone.  These 
are  the  openly  hostile  tribes.  There  are 
20,000  more,  who  are  supposed  to  be 
friendly.  Do  you  fellows  think  all  these 
people  live  on  grass  ?  No,  they  have  to  hunt 
for  their  meat,  for  every  meal  of  it.  Have 
you  ever  thought  that  these  people,  I  mean 
the  hostiles,  who  receive  no  government  ra- 
tions, need  about  500  buffaloes  every  day, 
or  other  game  to  take  the  place  of  the  buf- 
faloes? I  suppose  you  fellows  think  they 
rope  all  this  game  near  their  camps.  No, 
they  don't.  They  have  to  roam  all  over  the 
plains  to  find  enough  food.  There  is  no 
more  game  near  a  permanent  Indian  camp 
than  there  is  near  a  white  man's  town. 

"  So  I  know,  even  if  I  hadn't  seen  it  with 


140     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTmG  BULL 

my  own  eyes,  that  the  country  between  Can- 
ada and  the  Yellowstone  is  full  of  hunting 
parties,  and  in  these  days  every  Sioux  hunt- 
ing party  is  a  war  party.  If  the  govern- 
ment had  set  out  to  make  the  Sioux  hate  the 
white  men,  it  could  not  have  done  any  better, 
I  am  surprised  that  they  have  not  all  joined 
Crazy  Horse,  Gall,  Sitting  Bull  and  the 
other  hostile  chiefs." 

The  boys  did  not  wish  to  go  back  to  the 
States,  they  did  still  wish  to  cross  the  plains, 
although  they  had  not  thought  much  of  the 
things  which  Joe  had  pointed  out. 

Hank  asked  if  it  would  not  be  a  good  plan 
to  engage  one  or  two  of  the  friendly  Indians 
at  Fort  Totten  to  go  with  them. 

"  Oh,  but  could  you  trust  them? "  asked 
Don. 

"  I  would  not  hesitate  to  trust  them,"  Joe 
asserted.  "  In  that  respect  Indians  are 
much  like  white  men;  you  must  know  when 
to  trust  and  whom  to  trust. 

"  But  I  would  not  take  an  Indian  along," 
he  continued.  "  He  would  be  true  enough; 
but  he  would  not  obey  orders.     If  we  got 


JOE  IN  TROUBLE  141 

into  a  tight  place  he  would  want  to  run  and 
give  up  the  game.  In  that  respect  most  In- 
dians are  a  good  deal  like  boys. 

"  If  they  can  do  a  thing  right  away,  they 
do  it.  But  if  it  is  hard  or  very  dangerous,  or 
takes  a  long  time,  they  get  tired  of  it,  just 
like  boys,  and  want  to  give  it  up.  Indians 
seldom  follow  up  an  advantage  in  a  fight  un- 
less they  can  do  so  at  once." 

Hank  and  Don  looked  at  each  other  as  if 
they  felt  guilty  of  neglecting  or  forgetting 
something. 

"  Yes,  you  fellows  just  take  the  hint,"  Joe 
laughed,  "  although  I  did  not  mean  it  as  a 
hint.  Pete  says  you  are  getting  pretty  lazy 
about  hoeing  his  corn  and  potatoes.  I 
should  think  you  would  get  tired  of  fishing 
and  swimming  every  day.  A  little  hoeing 
will  do  you  good." 

"  When  you  scouted  for  Custer  south  of 
the  Arkansas,"  Don  ventured,  "'  you  trav- 
elled through  dangerous  country  all  alone  or 
with  another  man.  We  could  travel  pretty 
fast  over  the  three  hundred  miles  to  Boze- 
man." 


142    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Three  hundred  miles? "  exclaimed  Joe. 
"  Where  did  you  get  that  notion?  It  is  six 
hundred  miles  as  the  crow  flies  and  seven 
hundred  on  horseback;  maybe  eight  hundred 
by  the  time  you  are  there. 

"  Well,  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  we 
will  not  leave  before  the  first  of  October. 
By  that  time  the  Indians  will  be  making 
their  great  fall  buffalo  hunt,  or  will  be  mov- 
ing to  their  regular  winter  camps;  and  will 
not  roam  so  much  everywhere. 

"  Maybe,  by  that  time  we  shall  hear  some 
good  news ;  thus  far  we  have  had  nothing  but 
bad  news. 

''  You  fellows  can  take  in  the  fall  hunting 
now  for  ducks  and  geese.  But  do  learn  to 
shoot;  don't  waste  ammunition,  but  start 
bringing  in  some  game  for  the  camp. 
Everybody  in  the  mess  is  pretty  tired  of  salt 
beef  and  picKerel.  I  shall  write  your  father 
that  we  will  not  start  imtil  October." 


CHAPTER  XV 

DON  AT  THE  DOCTOR^S 

During  the  latter  part  of  August  wild 
ducks,  geese,  and  swans  lose  their  wing 
feathers,  and  for  a  week  or  two  they  cannot 
fly.  However,  at  this  time  of  the  year  all 
kinds  of  food  are  abundant  and  by  the  first 
of  September  the  wild  millions  can  again  sail 
the  air  on  swift  and  strong  wings ;  for  wild 
ducks,  geese,  and  swans  are  wonderful  fliers, 
and  seem  to  enjoy  travelling  through  the 
crisp  autumn  air  as  much  as  any  boy  ever 
enjoyed  playing  ball. 

Of  feathered  game,  there  was  an  abun- 
dance at  that  time,  which  to-day  seems  al- 
most unbelievable. 

Wild  ducks  are  early  risers.  Before  the 
last  stars  have  quite  faded  away  at  the  ap- 
proach of  daylight,  one  hears  the  whirr  and 
whistle  of  their  wings,  as  large  and  small 

flocks  are  passing  to  good  feeding-grounds. 

143 


144    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

During  the  noon  hours  most  of  them  seem  to 
be  taking  a  nap,  but  from  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon  they  are  again  in  the  air  until 
after  dark ;  for  most  wild  birds,  and  animals, 
too,  eat  only  two  good  meals  a  day. 

Joe  had  fixed  a  few  strict  hunting  rules 
for  his  boys.  They  were  not  to  do  any'^pot- 
hunting,  which  means  that  they  were  not  to 
shoot  any  birds  sitting  on  the  water.  And 
they  were  not  to  waste  ammunition.  Every 
bird  missed  counted  a  mark  against  the 
hunter. 

But  even  with  these  rules,  it  was  not  diffi- 
cult to  keep  the  mess  table  supplied  with 
choice  game,  for  which  restaurants  and  ho- 
tels in  Boston  and  New  York  would  now 
charge,  at  least,  five  dollars  a  bird,  if  the 
law  allowed  them  to  serve  and  sell  wild 
game. 

The  lakes  and  sloughs  of  the  prairie 
States  and  provinces  are  the  greatest  breed- 
ing-places for  wild  ducks  and  geese  in  the 
world,  and  only  hunters  and  naturalists  real- 
ize how  many  kinds  of  wild  ducks  and  geese 
are  at  home  in  North  America. 


DON  AT  THE  DOCTOR'S  145 

On  the  smaller  varieties,  such  as  teal,  buf- 
fle-heads,  or  butterballs,  the  lads  could  not 
afford  to  waste  their  expensive  ammunition. 
The  millions  of  blackbirds^  snipes,  curlews, 
and  mud-hens  were  also  too  small  game. 
Only  the  large  well-flavored  ducks ;  Canvas- 
backs,  redheads,  and  mallards,  were  fair 
game. 

At  first  they  found  it  hard  to  recognize  the 
birds  on  the  wing  and  made  many  mistakes 
by  bringing  home  pintails,  spoonbills,  and 
sawbills.  The  pintails  and  spoonbills  look 
large  on  the  wing,  but  have  only  a  small 
body.  The  sawbills  the  boys  were  com- 
pelled to  eat  themselves.  They  are  fish- 
ducks,  and  have  the  taste  of  their  food,  and 
the  soldiers  would  not  eat  them;  but  it  was 
the  rule  that  all  ducks  killed  must  be  brought 
home  and  eaten. 

It  is  easy  to  distinguish  the  twenty  or 
more  kinds  of  wild  ducks  in  a  museum  or  on 
good  pictures,  but  it  took  the  boys  a  week  to 
tell  them  by  their  field  marks  at  a  distance. 

Most  of  their  duck-hunting  the  boys  did 
on  good  passes,  where  low  bushes  furnished 


146     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

natural  blinds,  and  where  they  did  not  lose 
their  birds  in  dense  rushes  and  tall  grass. 

The  big,  honking  geese  were  much  more 
difficult  to  get.  They  are  far  more  wary 
than  ducks,  and  generally  fly  too  high  to  be 
brought  down  with  a  shotgun.  Again  and 
again,  the  young  hunters  fired  at  them  as  the 
long  honking  lines  passed  over ;  only  to  hear 
the  shot  click  harmlessly  on  the  big  wings, 
while  the  great  wavy  line  passed  on  without 
a  break ;  for  wild  geese  generally  fly  in  lines 
with  a  V-shaped  hook  in  front.  Why  they 
fly  in  this  manner  is  not  known. 

With  one  big  wild  gander,  Don  had  an  ex- 
perience which  made  him  the  butt  of  a  good 
many  jokes  on  the  part  of  Cactus  Pete  and 
the  other  soldiers  of  the  mess. 

Don  had  dropped  the  bird  in  some  low 
bushes,  and  as  it  was  the  first  goose  he  had 
brought  down,  he  ran  eagerly  to  pick  it  up. 
But  the  big  gander  had  only  been  winged, 
and  before  Don  could  secure  him,  the  vi- 
ciously striking  goose  split  one  of  Don's  ears 
almost  in  two. 

The  wound  looked  so  serious  and  bled  so 


DON  AT  THE  DOCTOR'S  147 

freely  that  Hank  tied  it  up  with  his  handker- 
chief and  hurried  the  young  hunter  home  to 
the  surgeon. 

"  Well,  son,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  is  a 
pretty  bad  rip.  I  guess  I  shall  have  to  sew 
the  pieces  together.  Shall  I  give  you  some 
chloroform? " 

Hank  left  the  room  when  the  doctor  got 
his  needle  ready,  but  Don  told  the  doctor  to 
go  ahead  without  any  chloroform. 

"  If  girls  can  have  their  ears  pricked  for 
earrings,"  he  said,  "  I  guess  a  fellow  can 
stand  having  his  ear  sewed  together  again." 

The  wound  healed  quickly  under  the  sur- 
geon's care,  but  every  morning,  when  Don 
started  out  for  the  day's  hunt  with  his  head 
in  a  fresh  bandage,  the  jokers  did  not  spare 
him. 

"  It  would  not  be  a  bad  thing,"  suggested 
Cactus  Pete,  "  if  an  Indian  scout  had  three 
ears." 

"  Right  you  are,  Pete,"  one  of  the  soldiers 
added.  "  Maybe,  Don,  you  could  find  a 
gander  who  would  rip  the  other  ear  for  you. 
An  Indian  scout  with  four  ears  couldn't  be 


148     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

beat.  You  could  hire  out  to  General  Custer 
for  a  hundred  dollars  a  month  and  free 
horses  and  grub." 

"  Drop  the  chaff,  men,"  Joe  would  some- 
times say,  when  his  small  ward  was  beset  too 
hard.  "  Try  your  wit  on  each  other,  you 
big  sticks,  and  let  the  small  boy  alone."  But 
in  spite  of  anything  Joe  could  do,  Don  never 
quite  heard  the  last  about  the  danger  he  was 
exposed  to  in  hunting  wild  geese. 

Cactus  Pete,  although  he  had  begun  to 
speak  of  "  our  boys,"  teased  the  lads  in  many 
ways.  He  delighted  especially  in  telling  his 
strange  experiences  in  such  a  way  that  the 
boj'^s  did  not  always  know  whether  he  was 
relating  facts  or  was  testing  the  gullibility 
of  his  tenderfoot  friends. 

"  Well,  boys,"  he  began  one  evening, 
"  those  Canada  ganders  are  pretty  danger- 
ous songbirds,  but  they  are  harmless  canaries 
compared  with  one  of  those  large  water- 
birds  in  California  and  Oregon." 

"What  bird  is  that?"  asked  Don 
eagerly. 

"  Wall,   when   I  lived  on  the  coast,   a 


DON  AT  THE  DOCTOR'S  149 

strange  thing  happened  to  a  small  Indian 
boy  on  Lake  Tahoe." 

"  Pete,  when  were  you  on  Lake  Tahoe? " 
Joe  asked  with  a  warning  glance. 

"  I  was  born  there,"  Pete  declared  boldly. 
"  Wall,  this  small  Injun  lad  was  taking  a 
swim,  when  a  flock  of  them  big  Western  Peli- 
cans alighted  near  him  and  began  fishing. 
One  of  them  scooped  up  this  Injun  lad  and 
stored  him  away  m  his  beak  pouch.  The  lad 
couldn't  get  out  nohow.  He  got  so  hungry 
that  he  had  to  eat  some  of  the  fish  the  pelican 
caught.  Of  course,  he  had  plenty  of  water 
to  drink.  When  old  Chief  Tillamook  heard 
that  a  pelican  had  caught  something  so  big 
that  he  couldn't  fly,  he  sort  of  guessed  where 
the  lost  boy  was.  He  ordered  seven  of  his 
young  men  to  go  after  the  bird  with  ropes. 
They  lassoed  the  pelican  and  took  the  boy 
out  of  his  beak.  The  lad  wasn't  much  the 
worse  for  his  experience,  but  when  I  seen 
him  last,  he  still  had  the  scar  on  his  back, 
where  the  pelican  caught  him  with  the  crook 
on  the  end  of  his  beak." 

The  lads  looked  at  Joe  for  a  sign  of  dis- 


150     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

approval,  but  Joe  sat  there  as  unmoved  as 
an  Indian  chief  in  council. 

"  Now,"  began  Pete,  encouraged  by  his 
apparent  success,  "  I'll  tell  you  a  story  that 
I  had  from  the  mouth  of  the  best  scout  that 
ever  served  the  government,  Jim  Bridger. 
You  know  Bridger? "  he  asked  turning  to 
Joe,  who  said  he  had  met  him  once. 

"Wall,"  continued  Pete,  "if  you  ever 
reach  the  upper  Yellowstone,  you  may  find 
a  strange  river.  Bridger  once  had  to  cross 
this  river,  and  he  took  off  his  boots  to  wade 
across,  using  a  spear  to  steady  himself  in  the 
terrible  current.  Wall,  before  Jim  got  half 
across  he  pretty  near  scalded  the  soles  of  his 
feet,  for  the  current  was  so  swift  that  it  made 
the  bottom  of  the  river  as  hot  as  the  top  of  a 
stove.  Bridger  named  the  stream  Fire  Hole 
River. 

"  We  started  to  laugh  at  him,  but  Jim 
swore  the  story  was  true  as  Gospel,  but  he 
wouldn't  tell  it  to  any  eastern  tenderfoot, 
who  would  call  a  man  a  liar,  just  because  he 
had  seen  things  which  the  wise  ones  in  Bos- 
ton haven't  heard  about." 


DON  AT  THE  DOCTOR^S  151 

Again  the  boys  looked  at  Joe  with  ques- 
tioning eyes,  but  Joe  only  remarked: 

"  Be  a  little  careful,  Pete,  when  you  cross 
that  old  bridge  near  the  barracks." 

"  I  never  cross  it  after  dark,"  Pete  re- 
plied, quietly  taking  his  hat.  "  I  always  go 
around  it.     Good-night  to  you  all." 

Joe  still  had  a  smile  on  his  face  when  Pete 
was  gone. 

"That  last  story  is  true,"  he  began. 
"  That  river  bed  is  really  hot,  but  it  is  not 
the  friction  of  the  swift  current  which  makes 
it  hot.  The  river  flows  over  a  bed  of  lava 
rock,  which  is  still  hot.  Old  Bridger  told 
the  truth  of  what  he  observed,  but  he  did  not 
understand  the  cause," 


CHAPTER  XVI 

WINGED  MILLIONS 

Time  passed  so  quickly  to  the  lads  that 
they  seemed  to  have  forgotten  that  they  had 
already  been  at  Fort  Totten  much  longer 
than  they  had  expected,  and  that  they  had 
before  them  a  long  dangerous  journey  to 
the  upper  Yellowstone. 

Joe  also  seemed  to  have  forgotten  about 
that  dangerous  western  trip,  for  the  first  of 
October  arrived  and  he  said  nothing  about 
starting.  However,  he  and  Pete  frequently 
had  long  talks  in  Joe's  cabin,  but  when  the 
boys  came  in  they  grew  silent  or  changed  the 
subject. 

The  lads  frequently  left  their  canoe  some 
miles  from  the  fort  and  rode  to  their  hunt- 
ing-grounds on  horseback,  picketing  the 
animals  till  they  had  secured  a  load  of  game. 

About  the  middle  of  October  the  weather 

152 


WINGED  MILLIONS  153 

turned  cold,  and  now  all  the  ducks  and  geese 
of  the  country  seemed  to  be  going  south  by- 
way of  Lake  Minnewaukan. 

One  evening  as  the  lads  entered  the  cabin, 
where  Joe  and  Pete  were  having  one  of  their 
long  talks,  the  young  hunters  were  much 
excited. 

"Oh,  Pete!"  exclaimed  Don,  "you  and 
Joe  ought  to  go  hunting  with  us.  We  saw 
two  million  ducks  to-day.  And  we  saw  a 
hundred  thousand  geese,  many  big  flocks  of 
white  ones." 

"  You  are  getting  to  be  pretty  good  liars," 
remarked  Pete  with  a  sly  wink  at  Joe. 

"  No,  honestly,  we  did,"  Hank  seconded 
his  brother.  "  The  bays  and  the  whole  lake 
are  full  of  them.  Big  flocks  of  bluebills,  mal- 
lards, canvasbacks  and  redheads,  and  thou- 
sands of  others  were  coming  and  going  all 
day  long.  Toward  evening  they  were  as 
thick  as  blackbirds.  We  counted  10,000  of 
them  from  one  spot,  and  millions  of  other 
small  birds  are  there." 

"  How  could  you  count  ten  thousand? " 
asked  Joe,  appearing  to  be  skeptical. 


154    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  We  kind  of  divided  them  up  into  patches 
of  a  thousand,"  explained  Hank,  "  and  you 
couldn't  imagine  how  many  there  were." 

Don  and  Hank  did  not  at  all  exaggerate 
the  number  of  water-fowl  they  saw.  Their 
number  in  those  days  almost  passed  belief. 
Even  at  the  present  time  millions  of  them 
breed  on  the  plains  as  far  north  as  the  Arctic 
Ocean  and  pass  north  and  south  every  year 
like  two  great  tidal  waves  of  winged  life. 

Even  in  the  fall  of  1919  about  1,500,000 
water-fowl  were  killed  in  the  State  of  Minne- 
sota alone,  according  to  statistics  gathered 
by  the  State  Game  and  Fish  Commissioner. 

In  the  middle  seventies  white  hunters  had 
not  materially  decreased  the  number  of  game 
birds,  and  settlers  had  encroached  but  little 
upon  their  breeding-grounds. 

The  Indians  never  made  any  impression 
at  all  on  the  feathered  game  of  the  country. 
As  long  as  buffalo  and  deer  and  other  game 
animals  could  still  be  secured,  the  Indians 
could  not  afford  to  waste  expensive  ammuni- 
tion on  ducks  and  geese.  They  found  the 
meat  of  game  animals  much  more  satisfying, 


WINGED  MILLIONS  155 

and  some  of  the  Plains  tribes,  like  the  Black- 
feet,  would  not  eat  feathered  game  at  all. 

Before  the  Indians  had  firearms,  the 
shooting  of  game-birds  was  largely  a  sport 
for  the  boys,  the  men  hunting  buffalo,  deer, 
elk,  moose,  mountain  sheep,  and  antelope. 
The  making  of  arrows  involved  much  work, 
and  the  hunter  recovered  his  arrow  whenever 
he  could  do  so.  Sometimes  the  hunters  even 
cut  the  bullets  out  of  the  game,  so  as  to  use 
them  again ;  because  everything  the  Indians 
bought  of  the  traders  cost  them  a  high  price 
in  furs  and  buffalo  robes,  and  the  nearest 
trading  post  was  often  hundreds  of  miles 
away  from  their  hunting-grounds. 

But  let  us  return  to  our  story. 

"  Have  you  hunted  enough? "  asked  Joe, 
after  the  boys  had  eaten  their  supper.  "We 
are  going  to  start  west  in  about  two  weeks, 
and  Pete  is  going  with  us." 

"  Is  Pete  going  with  us?  Ai-e  you,  Pete?  " 
both  lads  cried  at  once.  And  then  they 
shouted  and  danced  and  threw  their  arms 
around  the  old  soldier,  till  he  was  quite  em- 
barrassed. 


156     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Let  up  on  that,  boys,"  he  remonstrated. 
"  The  guard  will  thmk  Joe  has  smuggled 
some  fire-water  into  his  shack. 

"  Yes,  I  am  going  with  you.  We  are  go- 
ing to  try  and  fool  them  with  a  winter  cam- 
paign as  Joe  and  Custer  did  south  of  the 
Arkansas.  It  is  going  to  be  pretty  cold 
travelling.  But  if  we  strike  good  weather, 
and  our  horses  don't  give  out,  maybe  we 
can  do  it." 

"What  do  we  do  if  we  meet  Indians?" 
asked  Don. 

"  Wall,  that  depends  on  what  the  Injims 
do  and  how  manv  there  are." 

During  the  next  two  weeks,  the  boys  found 
very  little  time  for  hunting. 

Clothing  had  to  be  looked  over  and  gotten 
together,  packs  and  saddles  needed  repair- 
ing, and  a  small  stock  of  provisions  had  to 
be  selected.  On  guns  and  ammunition  they 
did  not  skimp,  but  for  food  they  expected  to 
depend  on  game.  In  addition  to  a  rifle  and 
a  Colt's  revolver  for  each  man,  they  took  one 
shotgun  and  four  short  Sioux  hunting  bows 
with  a  supply  of  arrows. 


WIKGED  MILLIONS  15T 

"  I  don't  think  much  of  these  Indian 
weapons,"  remarked  Joe,  "  but  Pete  thinks 
we  may  have  to  do  some  pretty  quiet  hunt- 
ing, so  I  guess  we  had  better  take  them." 

Their  provisions  consisted  principally  of 
tea,  sugar,  and  coffee,  a  little  flour,  some 
bacon,  a  bag  of  hardtack,  and  a  few  smoked 
breasts  of  wild  geese. 

They  decided  to  take  an  extra  horse  for 
each  man,  for  both  Joe  and  Pete  feared  that 
the  trip  would  be  hard  on  the  horses,  al- 
though the  animals  were  now  all  in  fine  con- 
dition. They  had  all  the  horses  shod  by  the 
blacksmith  and  they  took  some  nails  and  two 
extra  shoes  for  each  horse. 

"A  lame  horse,"  said  Pete,  "  is  not  much 
better  than  a  dead  horse." 

For  shelter  they  bought  an  Indian  tepee. 
Two  light  axes  and  a  short-handled  spade 
they  also  added  to  their  equipment. 

^Tien  everything  had  been  collected,  in- 
cluding blankets  and  clothing,  it  was  found 
that  each  extra  horse  would  have  a  small 
pack  to  carry. 

"  Eight    horses,"    commented    Pete,    "  is 


158    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

really  too  many  for  slipping  through,  but  I 
am  afraid  of  some  of  the  critters  giving  out. 
Winter  travel  is  mighty  hard  on  them,  be- 
cause the  grass  is  poor,  and  they  have  little 
or  no  shelter.  But  here's  luck;  we  have  to 
do  our  best." 

"  Do  the  Indians  ever  shoe  their  horses?  " 
asked  Don. 

"  No,  never,"  Pete  answered,  laughing. 
"  They  never  feed  them  either,  all  they  do 
is  to  drive  them  to  water  once  or  twice  a  day, 
and  watch  out  that  their  enemies  do  not  steal 
them." 

"  You  ought  to  have  seen  all  the  ponies 
we  captured  on  the  Washita,  eight  hundred 
of  them,"  remarked  Joe. 

"Eight  hundred  ponies!"  cried  Don. 
^'  What  did  you  do  with  all  of  them?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  Joe  sadly,  "  I  never  like 
to  tell  it,  or  even  think  of  it,  but  we  couldn't 
help  ourselves.  We  could  not  take  them 
along,  and  we  could  not  return  them  to  the 
Indians." 

"  Why  couldn't  you  return  them?  "  Hank 
asked,  much  interested,  for  Joe  had  never 


WINGED  MILLIONS  159 

spoken  of  this  part  of  Custer's  big  fight  on 
the  Washita. 

"  We  had  been  sent  to  punish  the  Indians 
for  their  outrages  and  murders  on  the  Kan- 
sas frontier.  They  had  killed  about  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  white  people,  burned  houses 
and  stolen  cattle  and  horses.  And  the 
soldiers  could  never  catch  them  in  sum- 
mer. They  knew  the  country;  and  if  a 
band  was  pressed  too  hard,  they  would 
scatter.  But  we  did  catch  them  by  march- 
ing on  their  villages  in  winter.  They  had 
not  thought  the  soldiers  could  do  that." 

*'  But  what  did  you  do  with  the  ponies?  " 
Hank  pressed. 

"  Our  Indian  captives  selected  about  forty 
of  them  for  their  o^\ti  use,  and  the  rest  we 
had  to  shoot.  I  know  Custer  hated  to  order 
it,  and  the  men  hated  to  do  it,  but  such  is 
war.  I  shall  be  mighty,  mighty  glad  when 
this  country  has  seen  its  last  Indian  war. 
But  you  can't  handle  bad  Indians  by  simply 
being  nice  to  them  any  more  than  you  can 
handle  white  criminals  that  way. 

"  The    Cheyennes,    Kiowas,    Comanches, 


1(50     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

and  Arapahoes  had  begun  to  think  that  the 
government  was  powerless  to  control  them 
and  to  punish  their  misdeeds.  Well,  Custer 
taught  them  a  lesson,  which  they  very  much 
needed.  It  was  a  hard  lesson,  but  it  had 
to  be  done." 

"  Joe,  why  couldn't  you  take  the  ponies 
along?  "  asked  Don  with  his  face  all  flushed. 
"  I  think  it  was  a  shame  to  kill  them." 

"  We  wished  very  much  to  take  them 
along,"  Joe  continued,  "  but  it  was  impos- 
sible. We  had  whipped  and  destroyed  the 
Cheyenne  village  of  Black  Kettle,  but  only 
a  few  miles  below  his  camp  were  three  or 
four  other  large  villages  with  thousands  of 
warriors. 

"  I  don't  laiow  what  Custer  thought,  when 
in  the  afternoon  himdreds  of  Indians  ap- 
peared on  the  hills  all  around  us.  I  was 
getting  pretty  well  scared.  Myself  and 
many  of  the  soldiers  thought  the  worst  of 
the  fighting  was  still  ahead  of  us. 

"  We  had  almost  nothing  to  eat,  our 
supply-wagons  were  thirty  miles  in  the  rear. 
Many  of  us  had  lost  our  overcoats;  the  In- 


WINGED  MILLIONS  161 

dians  got  them.  We  had  them  piled  up  in 
the  rear,  but  the  Indians  were  too  much  for 
the  guard  who  had  to  run  to  save  themselves. 

*'  If  we  had  taken  the  horses,  the  warriors 
from  all  the  villages  would  have  followed  us 
trying  to  get  the  horses  back.  In  following 
us  they  might  have  discovered  our  supply- 
wagons,  before  the  regiment  could  again 
join  the  guard,  and  there  is  no  telling  what 
might  have  happened. 

"  You  see,  we  could  not  possibly  encumber 
our  march  with  eight  hundred  ponies,  all  as 
wild  as  deer,  and  scared  at  the  sight  of  a 
white  man. 

"  Custer  loves  horses  and  dogs  and  I  know 
he  hated  to  give  the  order  and  we  hated  to 
carry  it  out,  but  you  see  it  had  to  be  done." 

"  It  was  too  bad,"  remarked  Don.  "  I 
wish  Hank  and  I  had  some  of  those  ponies 
for  our  trip." 

"  What  do  the  Indians  do  when  their 
horses  get  sore-footed,  because  they  have  no 
shoes  on? " 

"  Sometimes  they  let  them  rest  a  few  days, 
or  take  other  horses,  and  sometimes  they 


162    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

make  moccasins  for  them.  I  have  seen 
white  men  doing  that,  too." 

"  Make  moccasins  for  the  horses? "  asked 
Don,  looking  at  Pete  and  thinking  that  Joe 
had  begun  to  tell  the  same  kind  of  stories 
that  Pete  was  in  the  habit  of  telling. 

"That  is  true,"  Pete  agreed.  "They 
make  moccasins  for  the  horses  of  buffalo 
skin.  The  horses  like  them,  but  the  trouble 
is  that  they  last  only  a  day  or  two." 

"  Yes,"  added  Joe,  "  Custer  even  made 
moccasins  of  leather  for  his  dogs,  so  they 
would  not  be  afraid  of  the  prickly  pear,  that 
nasty  wild  cactus  of  the  plains." 

"  You  have  not  told  us  how  you  got  away 
from  the  Indians  that  surrounded  you  in 
Black  Kettle's  village." 

"  That  is  too  long  a  story  to  tell  now;  but 
we  were  mighty  glad,  when  we  reached  our 
wagon-train  next  day.  It  is  time  to  go  to 
bed  now. 

"  Pete,  to-morrow  we  have  to  set  up  our 
tepee  to  be  sure  that  everything  is  all  right." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  LONG  EED  SNAKE 

The  tepee  did  need  several  patches  and 
some  new  strings  and  loops  before  it  was 
readv  for  service. 

Hank  and  Don  marvelled  at  the  care  with 
which  Joe  and  Pete  looked  over  every  piece 
of  the  equipment.  If  they  found  the  slight- 
est flaw  in  the  girth  of  a  saddle  or  a  worn 
buckle  hole  in  a  s  >  :.p,  the  saddle  or  strap 
went  to  old  Gill's  shop. 

The  horses,  after  they  had  been  shod,  were 
taken  out  for  a  trial  ride  of  several  miles  to 
make  sure  that  they  would  not  develop  any 
lameness  on  the  trip.  The  loads  for  the 
packhorses  were  tried  on  to  make  sure  that 
packs  and  pack-saddles  did  not  chafe  the 
animals. 

Extra  care  was  given  to  the  guns  and 

revolvers.     They  were  all  taken  apart  and 

carefully  cleaned  and  oiled. 

163 


164    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Whatever  hunting  the  boys  had  time  to 
do,  they  did  with  bows  and  arrows,  so  as  to 
be  ready  for  any  emergency. 

Colonel  Hunt  offered  to  send  an  escort 
with  the  party  for  a  day  or  two,  but  Pete  de- 
clined the  offer  with  thanks. 

"An  escort  would  do  us  no  good.  Colonel," 
he  explained,  **  unless  the  men  went  with  us 
clear  to  Bozeman.  We  shall  just  slip  away 
as  quietly  as  possible." 

Pete's  term  of  enlistment  expired  the  last 
of  October,  and  shortly  before  midnight  the 
next  day  the  four  me'  rode  quietly  south- 
ward out  of  Fort  Tottcin.  They  took  this 
direction  to  avoid  being  observed  by  the  In- 
dians, most  of  whom  had  their  camps  in  the 
timber  south  of  the  lake. 

"  These  here  Injuns,"  Pete  remarked, 
"  are  friendly  enough,  I  believe,  but  they 
have  friends  in  the  camps  of  Sitting  Bull 
and  Crazy  Horse  and  Gall;  and  it  is  sur- 
prising how  fast  news  will  travel  from  one 
Indian  camp  to  another.  An  Indian  run- 
ner will  make  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  miles 
a  day ;  and  they  also  send  warnings  and  news 


THE  LONG  RED  SNAKE  165 

by  means  of  signal  smokes  from  one  camp  to 
another. 

"  They  have  little  to  do  now,  and  while  the 
weather  remains  fair,  they  roam  about,  espe- 
cially the  young  men,  visiting,  huntmg,  and 
horse-stealing,  if  they  have  a  chance.  Steal- 
ing horses  is  the  next  brave  thing  in  the  life 
of  an  Indian  to  killing  and  scalping  an 
enemy.  So  I  reckon  it  is  just  as  well  if  our 
friends  do  not  see  us  leave." 

The  weather  had  already  turned  quite 
cold,  and  the  boys  found  that  the  heavy  buf- 
falo coats  and  the  fur  caps  and  mittens  of 
the  cavalry  were  just  the  right  things  to 
wear  to  make  a  night  ride  comfortable. 

When  the  sun  rose,  the  travellers  found 
themselves  on  a  prairie  more  lonely  than  the 
lads  had  ever  seen.  During  their  stay  at 
Fort  Totten  they  had  failed  to  remember 
that  Lake  Minnewaukan  was  a  big  oasis  of 
woods  and  water  on  the  vast  plain. 

They  stopped  for  breakfast  after  the  red 
sun  had  risen  above  the  plain  as  if  it  came 
out  of  a  sea  of  dead  grass,  strewn  with  the 
wreckage   of  thousands   and   thousands   of 


166     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

bleached  buffalo  skeletons;  for  the  hired 
skin-hunters  had  gotten  in  their  deadly  work 
all  around  the  lake. 

How  both  men  and  boys  missed  the  tan- 
talizing tune  of  reveille,  the  cheerful  notes  of 
mess  call  and  the  friendly  faces  and  merry 
voices  of  the  soldiers! 

' '  Soupy,  soupy,  soupy,  not  a  single  bean, 
Coffee,  coffee,  coffee,  not  a  bit  of  cream ; 
Porky,  porky,  porky,  not  a  streak  of  lean, ' ' 

Joe  sang  out,  and  added:  "  Cheer  up, 
friends,  cheer  up  and  eat!  Travelling  in  a 
snowstorm  will  be  much  worse!  " 

In  half  an  hour  they  were  again  in  the  sad- 
dle, but  they  now  changed  their  direction 
from  south  to  southwest,  so  as  to  strike  the 
Missouri  some  twenty  miles  above  the  mouth 
of  the  Little  Missouri.  Joe  had  procured  a 
map  of  Dakota  and  Montana,  and  this  map 
and  a  compass  were  their  only  guides. 

Hour  after  hour  they  travelled  over  the 
same  country,  where  nothing  but  white  buf- 
falo bones  and  an  occasional  coyote  broke 
the  monotony  of  the  brown  ridges  and  swales 
of  the  dead  prairie.     The  summer  birds  as 


THE  LONG  KED  SNAKE  167 

well  as  the  migrating  flocks  of  ducks  and 
geese  were  gone.  Gophers  and  badgers 
were  asleep  in  their  holes,  and  all  big  game 
had  vanished,  as  if  there  had  never  been  a 
hoof  on  the  plains. 

About  noon  thev  came  to  a  small  stream 
with  a  few  patches  of  stunted  timber  along 
its  banks. 

"  This  is  First  Camp,"  said  Joe.  "  Boys, 
chop  a  hole  in  the  ice,  and  then  bring  some 
wood  and  water,  and  start  a  fire,  while 
Pete  and  I  set  up  the  tepee  and  picket  the 
horses." 

The  warm  blaze,  several  cups  of  hot  sweet 
tea,  and  a  good  meal  of  smoked  goose-breast 
and  hardtack  revived  their  spirits. 

After  dinner  the  boys  could  not  keep  their 
eyes  open  any  longer,  and  Joe  told  them 
they  had  better  roll  up  in  their  blankets  and 
go  to  sleep. 

"  Pete  and  I,"  he  added,  "  will  see  to  it 
that  Sitting  Bull  or  the  gray  wolves  do  not 
carry  you  off.  To-morrow  you  watch  while 
Pete  and  I  take  a  nap." 

Hank  thought  it  was  unnecessary  precau- 


168    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

tion  for  anybody  to  stay  awake  in  such  a 
dead  country,  but  Pete  and  Joe  said  that  old 
soldiers  were  used  to  that  sort  of  thing,  and 
you  never  could  tell  what  might  happen,  and 
it  was  worse  for  everybody  to  go  to  sleep  in 
the  daytime  than  at  night. 

"  If  we  had  taken  a  dog  along,"  said  Don, 
"  we  could  all  go  to  sleep  now." 

"  Yes,  and  have  your  dog  betray  us  to  an 
Indian  war  party  some  day,"  Joe  replied. 
"  Don't  you  remember  that  it  was  the  bark- 
ing of  a  dog  that  first  betrayed  the  exact  lo- 
cation of  Black  Kettle's  camp  to  Custer  and 
his  scouts? " 

"That  is  true,  lads,"  Pete  added.  "I 
like  dogs,  but  not  on  a  trip  like  this.  The 
Indians  always  have  a  lot  of  dogs  in  their 
camps,  but  a  war  party  never  takes  any  dogs 
along.  The  trouble  is  a  dog  doesn't  laiow 
when  to  bark  and  when  to  keep  still. 

"  We  are  a  kind  of  white  man's  war  party 
now,  and  a  dog  would  be  a  dangerous  com- 
panion." 

Pete  had  scarcely  finished  talking  when 
the  boys  were  sound  asleep. 


THE  LONG  BED  SNAKE 


169 


About  three  hours  the  men  let  them  sleep. 
Then  Joe  began  to  imitate  the  army  reveille : 


F#**-H 

# 

-f- 

-1* ^ 

# 

# ' 

-5— p — ^- 

-^*— 

irr\  /I     ^ 

[P 

^         « 

^ 

'1/  [/   •' 

[^ 

ts 

U^    • 

Lb— 

-i^ — ^— 

L^ — 

_£ — ^ — !L_ 

I    can't     get    'em  up,      I   can't     get   'em  up,       I 


:a=p: 


53 


:p 


>^ — i*^ — •- 


i 


can't  get 'em  up    this  morn- ing  ;  I   can't    get  'em  up,     I 

End 


can't    get    'em  up,      I      can't    get    'em  up       at     all. 


i 


^ 


W 


The 


cor  -  p'ral   is    worse  than    the      pri  -  vate,   The 


i 


:p=?: 


m 


-^ — ^ 


sergeant's  worse  than  the     cor  -  p'ral,The  lieut's  worse  than  the 

B.C. 


V /-J 

#      F       [^ 

^       g      • 

^       ^\^'    II 

ser  -  geant,  And  the    cap  -  tain     is  worse  than  them   all. 

The  words  of  the  old  call  were  never  more 
true,  for  Pete  had  to  help  his  friend  before 
the  lads  became  aroused. 

Then  Hank  sat  up  and  began  to  rub  his 
eyes,  and  seeing  Don  still  fast  asleep,  he 
called: 


170     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"Get  up,  Don!    Indians!    Sitting  Bull!" 

Now  Don  sprang  up.  "  Where  are  they? 
Where's  my  gun?  "  he  called. 

But  Joe  and  Pete  did  not  join  Hank's 
laugh. 

"Never  do  that  again!"  Joe  spoke 
sharply.  "  No  sensible  man  ever  gives  a 
false  alarm  in  the  Indian  country.  And 
both  of  you  boys  want  to  keep  your  guns  al- 
ways in  the  same  place.  You  may  want 
them  in  a  hurry  some  day." 

A  strong  breeze  was  now  blowing  from 
the  south,  and  Pete  thought  he  saw  dust  or 
smoke  in  that  direction.  On  riding  to  the 
top  of  a  ridge,  they  soon  made  out  that  a 
cloud  of  smoke  was  driven  before  the  wind. 
After  they  had  watched  the  cloud  a  while, 
they  could  plainly  smell  fire. 

"The  prairie  is  on  fire!"  called  Joe. 
"  Come,  men,  we  must  back-fire  around  our 
camp,  or  all  our  stuff  will  burn  up !  Every 
man  run  and  bring  a  piece  of  wet  canvas  or 
gunny  sack." 

Hank  and  Don  did  not  understand  just 
what  Joe  meant  to  do,  but  back-firing  was 


THE  LONG  BED  SNAEIE  171 

nothing  new  to  Pete.  In  a  few  minutes  he 
and  Joe  had  started  a  ]3rairie  fire  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  south  of  camp ;  and  it  was 
now  every  man's  work  to  see  that  this  fire 
did  not  run  away,  but  burn  a  strip  about  a 
rod  wide  in  front  of  the  camp. 

They  had  not  prepared  for  this  unex- 
pected danger  any  too  soon,  for  when  the 
fire-break  was  ready,  a  long  red  snake  came 
fast  creeping  over  the  nearest  ridge,  travel- 
ling before  the  wind  with  the  speed  of  a  run- 
ning horse.  When  it  crossed  a  swale,  where 
the  dead  grass  was  tall  and  thick,  it  raged 
forward  with  a  fierce  crackling  noise,  which 
made  the  horses  jump  and  pull  on  the  picket- 
ropes. 

Pete  quieted  the  frightened  animals,  but 
Joe  and  the  boys  ran  and  beat  out  the  flames, 
which  again  and  again  jumped  the  fire- 
break. 

When  the  danger  had  passed  in  front  of 
the  camp,  they  kept  the  fire  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  sides  of  the  camp;  so  a  good-sized 
space  was  left  unburnt  for  the  horses  to 
graze. 


172    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

By  the  time  the  fire  had  passed  the  camp,  it 
was  ahnost  dark;  and  the  glaring  red  flames, 
miles  long,  left  the  prairie  a  gloomy  and 
forbidding  world.  Farther  and  farther  the 
endless  red  snake  travelled  northward,  mitil 
it  disappeared  behind  a  rise  and  left  onl}^  a 
weird,  lurid  glow  on  the  sky. 

"  I  guess  we  may  as  well  make  supper," 
suggested  Joe,  when  nothing  was  left  of  the 
fire  but  a  few  burning  sticks  near  the 
creek. 

*'  Where  did  the  fire  come  from? "  the 
boys  wished  to  know,  when  the  company 
were  eating  their  supper,  seated  around  a 
cheerful  small  fire  inside  of  the  tent. 

"  That  is  impossible  to  tell,"  said  Joe. 
"A  prairie  fire  may  run  a  hundred  miles  be- 
fore a  river  or  a  lake  stops  it,  or  before  rain 
or  snow  put  it  out." 

"  But  how  does  a  prairie  fire  get  started? " 
asked  Don. 

"  In  many  ways.  Sometimes  the  Indians 
start  it  to  cause  a  better  growth  of  grass  for 
their  ponies  or  for  the  buffalo  herds.  At 
other  times  they  start  fires  to  drive  their 


THE  LONG  RED  SNAKE  173 

enemies  out  of  the  country  or  to  protect 
themselves  from  pursuit  by  an  enemy. 

"  A  camp-fire  may  spread,  lightning  may 
start  a  prairie  fire,  or  it  may  start  from  a 
burning  coal-bed." 

"  Burning  coal-beds?  "  questioned  Hank. 
"  Where  are  they?  " 

"  There  are  many  beds  of  very  soft  coal, 
or  lignite,  on  the  Missouri,  on  the  Yellow- 
stone and  in  the  Bad  Lands  of  the  Little 
Missouri,"  Pete  told.  "  I  have  often  seen 
the  coal-beds,  but  I  have  never  seen  one  on 
fire ;  but  the  Indians  and  old  plainsmen  say 
that  a  coal-bed  sometimes  burns  for  many 
years." 

"  What  do  you  say  to  all  of  us  rolling  in?  " 
suggested  Joe,  after  he  had  made  sure  that 
all  the  horses  were  securely  picketed.  "  We 
can  all  go  safely  to  sleep;  for  no  Indians  will 
travel  over  this  burnt  prairie." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

GUACALOTE 

If  both  men  and  boys  had  not  enjoyed  a 
long  refreshmg  sleep,  the  sight  which  met 
their  eyes  next  morning  would  have  been  de- 
pressing beyond  words. 

Their  camp  was  located  on  a  point  of 
brown  prairie,  dotted  by  a  few  scrubby  trees 
and  bushes;  the  rest  of  the  world,  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach,  was  a  burnt  and  black- 
ened earth  with  a  dead  gray  sky  above  it. 

A  hearty  warm  breakfast  dispelled  a  little 

of  the  gloom,  but  when  beyond  the  first 

ridge,  where  the  lads  had  expected  to  see  the 

end  of  the  burnt  ground,  the  dead  black 

plain  was  not  even  relieved  by  a  patch  of 

brown  grass  and  a  few  bushes,  their  spirits 

fell,  and  they  almost  wished  they  had  not 

come.     The  only  objects  set  off  from  the 

black  prairie  were  the  ashy  hills  of  gophers 

and  badgers  and  the  scattered  bones  and 

skulls  of  buffaloes. 

174 


GUACALOTE  175 

But  Joe  and  Pete  appeared  neither  sur- 
prised nor  sad.  They  acted  and  talked  as  if 
all  this  devastation  was  most  common  and 
expected. 

When  Joe  noticed  the  depressed  state  of 
mind  of  the  lads,  he  tried  to  cheer  them  up. 

"  This  is  not  bad  travelling,  boys,"  he  told 
them.  "  Pete  and  I  think  this  is  almost  like 
summer  travel.  On  the  Washita  campaign 
we  travelled  and  slept  in  a  foot  of  snow." 

But  the  lads  found  no  more  cheer  in  Joe's 
remarks  than  in  the  forbidding  aspect  ahead 
of  them,  where  the  wind  was  stirring  up 
clouds  of  black  dust  and  ashes. 

"  What  are  we  going  to  live  on  if  we  find 
no  game?"  asked  Don,  seriously  worried, 
and  thinking  of  the  abundance  of  game  they 
had  seen  in  spring,  between  Bismarck  and 
the  Souris  River. 

"  Wall,"  old  Pete  drawled  with  a  glance 
at  Joe,  "  we  have  four  extra  horses,  if  no 
game  shows  up." 

"  I  shall  eat  none  of  my  horses,"  asserted 
Don.  "  I  would  rather  starve  than  kill  one 
of  them." 


176     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Pete  and  Joe  were  not  worried  about  food 
for  the  men,  but  they  did  feel  uneasy  about 
the  horses.  The  winter  forage  was  poor 
enough  at  its  best.  If  the  horses  had  to 
travel  without  any  food  at  all  for  a  day  or 
two  they  would  soon  play  out.  It  was  for 
these  reasons  that  the  two  men  anxiously 
scanned  the  prairie  through  their  glasses; 
but  there  seemed  to  be  no  end  to  the  burnt 
plain. 

"  Pete,  I  believe  the  best  thing  we  can 
do,"  declared  Joe,  "  is  to  hold  a  westerly 
course  and  keep  going  till  we  strike  grass." 

Pete  agreed  to  this  plan  and  they  marched 
steadily  in  a  westerly  course ;  but  when  after 
another  hour,  no  sign  of  unburnt  prairie  was 
visible,  both  of  the  boys  felt  much  discour- 
aged. 

They  suggested  that  some  other  direction 
might  take  them  out  of  the  burnt  area  in  less 
time. 

Pete  and  Joe,  who  saw  that  the  lads  were 
really  alarmed  at  the  prospect  of  men  and 
horses  starving  on  the  black  desert,  tried  to 
quiet  their  fears. 


GUACALOTE  *  177 

"  We  can't  go  either  north  or  east,"  they 
explained,  "  because  that  would  lead  us 
farther  away  from  our  destination.  We 
should  not  go  south,  because  the  fire  came 
from  that  direction,  so  the '  only  sensible 
thing  to  do  is  to  travel  west  till  we  reach  the 
western  limit  of  the  burnt  area." 

Early  in  the  afternoon  the  horses,  who  had 
all  begun  to  lag,  increased  their  speed. 

"  I  thmk  they  are  smelling  grass,"  re- 
marked Pete,  "  or  game,  maybe!  " 

The  lads  asked  no  questions  about  this  re- 
mark, although  Pete  seemed  to  expect  it,  for 
Hank  as  well  as  Don  suspected  that  Cactus 
Pete  Avas  attempting  to  bait  them  with  one 
of  his  impossible  stories. 

The  boys  looked  at  Joe,  but  he  was  plod- 
ding along,  with  his  head  bent  and  his  face 
black  from  the  fine  dust  that  filled  the  air. 
He  seemed  lost  in  thought,  and  apparently 
had  not  heard  Pete's  remark. 

However,  when  they  had  ascended  the 
next  ridge,  they  could  not  quite  trust  their 
oAvn  eyes. 

"  Look,  Joe,"  Don  called  as  he  stopped  his 


178     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTi:t;rG  BULL 

horse  and  pointed  west;  "  is  that  a  real  coun- 
try or  is  it  one  of  those  mirages  that  you  and 
Pete  told  us  about?  " 

"  That  is  a  real  country,"  Joe  assured 
them.  "  If  we  don't  get  into  any  worse 
trouble  than  that  little  prairie  fire,  we  shall 
have  an  easy  trip. 

"  What  was  that  text  Phillips  Brooks 
preached  on  the  last  Sunday  we  attended 
Trinity  Church  in  Boston?  " 

"  I  don't  remember  it  all,"  Hank  con- 
fessed, "  but  one  phrase  of  it  was:  '  O  ye  of 
little  faith!'" 

"  That  was  the  text,"  said  Joe  with  a 
kindly  smile.  "And  do  you  remember  the 
rector  saying  that  men  of  little  faith  were 
always  men  of  little  courage,  and  that  Wash- 
ington and  Hamilton  and  Paul  Jones  and 
Abraham  Lincoln  had  been  men  of  strong 
faith  and  great  courage?  " 

"  Yes,"  Don  admitted,  "  I  remember  the 
whole  sermon  now,  but  I  guess  Hank  and  I 
did  not  think  that  a  sermon  like  that  meant 
us  riding  over  this  prairie." 

"  Wall,  boys,  you  see  now  what  it  means," 


GUACALOTE  179 

added  Pete,  contentedly  filling  his  black 
pipe.  "  It  means  go  ahead,  fight  it  out,  no 
matter  what  happens.  That's  a  good  sol- 
dier's motto,  I  reckon." 

In  half  an  hour  the  travellers  reached  the 
shore  of  a  small  lake,  one  of  many  in  the 
same  region.  All  gloom  had  now  suddenly 
vanished;  and  as  soon  as  a  camp  site  had 
been  selected,  Pete  slipped  away  with  his 
rifle,  calling  to  the  boys,  "  Help  Joe  take 
care  of  the  horses." 

In  a  few  minutes  they  heard  a  shot,  and 
very  soon  Pete  came  back  carrying  a  fat 
young  deer. 

*'  Did  you  know  that  deer  was  there? " 
asked  the  boys. 

"No,"  answered  Pete,  "but  I  thought 
that  wooded  ravine  looked  like  a  good  hid- 
ing-place for  game,  and  you  see  I  was  right. 
We  shall  not  have  to  eat  our  horses  right 
away.  Hurry  up,  boys,  build  a  fire;  we 
shall  have  broiled  liver  and  venison  for  sup- 
per.    I'm  powerful  hungry." 

Pete  was  not  the  only  one  that  was  hun- 
gry.    Neither  Joe  nor  the  boys  lost  a  min- 


180     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

ute,  when  Pete  started  to  imitate  the  mess 
call  of  Fort  Totten. 

And  the  horses,  too,  acted  as  if  they  were 
starved.  No  sooner  had  they  drunk  their 
fill  out  of  the  holes,  which  Joe  had  cut 
through  the  ice,  than  they  began  rustling  for 
their  supper  among  the  bushes  on  the  lake 
shore,  where  the  grass  still  showed  a  little 
green  in  patches. 

"Let  them  rustle  in  their  own  way  for  a 
while,"  said  Joe;  "  but  for  the  night  we  must 
picket  them." 

"  Go  a  little  easy  on  the  hardtack,"  Pete 
admonished  the  lads,  "  but  you  need  not 
skimp  on  the  venison.  If  you  boys  ever 
wished  to  live  like  Indians,  the  Great  Spirit 
has  heard  your  prayer ;  for  I  reckon  we  shall 
soon  find  game  enough  to  live  as  high  as 
the  warriors  in  Sitting  Bull's  camp.  It 
will  soon  be  all  meat  and  no  hardtack." 

After  supper  Pete  and  Joe  lit  their  pipes 
and  began  swapping  yarns  at  the  camp-fire 
and  to  speculate  on  the  whereabouts  of  the 
Indian  camps. 

"  I  hope  they  are  all  on  the  Powder  River 


GUACALOTE  181 

and  the  Big  Horn  and  the  Rosebud,"  was 
Joe's  wish,  "  and  I  hope  that  they  have  made 
a  good  fall  hunt  and  tha*  they  find  plenty  of 
game  south  of  the  Yellowstone." 

"  Your  wish  is  mine,"  Pete  broke  his  si- 
lence, "  but  I  have  my  doubts.  The  country 
of  the  Big  Horn,  the  Rosebud,  and  the  Pow- 
der is  good  game  country,  but  the  broken 
country  of  the  Little  ^Missouri  also  offers 
fine  shelter  and  good  grass  for  game  and 
ponies.  The  hostile  Sioux  are  pretty  sure 
to  break  up  into  several  camps  for  the  win- 
ter, because  a  camp  of  Indians  needs  an  im- 
mense amount  of  game  and  much  forage  for 
the  pony  herds.  And  no  matter  how  much 
meat  they  dried  and  smoked  on  their  fall 
hunt,  they  seldom  have  enough  without  do- 
ing some  hunting  during  winter.  It  would 
not  surprise  me  if  some  of  them  were  camp- 
ing on  the  Little  ^lissouri,  somewhere  south 
of  the  line  surveyed  for  the  Northern  Pacific 
Railroad,  where  it  is  to  run  through  the  Bad 
Lands.  We  shall  have  to  keep  our  eyes 
open  for  signs  of  them  as  soon  as  we  have 
crossed  the  Missouri." 


182     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  How  can  we  cross  the  Missouri  without 
a  boat  or  a  ferry?  "  asked  Don  anxiously. 

"  We  shall  see  about  that  when  we  get 
there,"  replied  Pete.  "We  soldiers  never 
worry  about  anything  till  we  get  to  it." 

As  the  wind  was  not  strong,  Joe  and  Pete 
decided  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  set  up 
the  tent.  Before  it  grew  dark  each  man 
spread  out  his  blankets  and  buffalo  robe, 
then  they  picketed  the  horses,  and  when  the 
coyotes  began  their  night  song,  the  tired 
travellers  wrapped  themselves  in  their  warm 
soft  robes  and  were  soon  fast  asleep. 

The  next  day  Joe  killed  a  fat  young  elk, 
and  game  was  now  abundant  wherever  there 
was  some  shelter  of  broken  ground  or  tim- 
ber. They  also  began  to  see  buffaloes,  but 
did  not  hunt  them,  because  a  buffalo  would 
have  furnished  more  meat  than  the  four  men 
could  have  used. 

"  On  the  Arkansas  we  almost  lived  on 
wild  turkeys,  but  I  have  never  heard  of  them 
in  this  country,"  Joe  remarked.  "  These 
prairie-hens  are  too  small  to  waste  our  am- 
munition on." 


GUACALOTE  183 

When,  at  the  close  of  these  remarks,  Joe 
smiled  as  if  thinking  of  something  pleasant, 
the  boys  demanded  to  know  what  he  was 
smiling  at  and  Joe  told  them  that  he  was 
thinking  about  an  old  Indian  chief  and  a 
turkey. 

"  The  Indians,"  Joe  resumed,  "  have  their 
peculiar  likes  and  dislikes  about  game  and 
food. 

"  On  the  Arkansas  we  almost  lived  on 
wild  turkey.  Occasionally  the  hunters 
brought  in  a  big  gobbler,  who  had  roosted  on 
the  trees  so  many  seasons  that  he  remained 
tough,  no  matter  how  long  we  cooked  him. 
We  had  been  boiling  one  of  those  old  birds 
for  hours  on  Pawnee  Creek  one  day,  when 
an  old  chief  came  to  our  camp  with  a  number 
of  young  hunters. 

"As  usual,  the  Indians  were  hungry  and 
begged  for  some  '  chuck.'  That  is  the  word 
which  to  all  Indian  tribes  means  food. 

"  We  were  rather  short  on  the  usual  army 
rations,  but  our  captain  pointed  to  the  boil- 
ing kettle,  signing  that  the  Indians  might 
have  it. 


184    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  The  old  chief  exammed  it  carefully  and 
told  his  young  men  that  it  was  *  guacalote/ 
meaning  turkey.  To  eat  it  would  make 
them  cowards,  and  they  would  run  away 
from  their  enemies  like  the  '  guacalotes  '  run 
away  from  the  hunters.  He  himself  was  an 
old  man,  and  did  not  expect  to  do  any  more 
brave  deeds,  so  he  might  risk  it. 

"After  this  little  talk  the  old  chief  began 
eating,  and  in  about  an  hour  the  kettle  was 
empty,  and  of  the  old  '  guacalote '  nothing 
was  left  but  the  bones." 

"  Joe,  do  you  mean  to  say  that  one  Indian 
ate  the  whole  turkey?  "  asked  Hank. 

"  He  not  only  ate  the  whole  turkey,  but  he 
drank  every  spoonful  of  the  soup,"  vowed 
Joe;  "  and  you  needn't  think  that  this  is  one 
of  Pete's  stories,  one  of  the  Devil's  Heart 
kind. 

"  It  is  true,  every  word  of  it.  Indians 
who  eat  little  else  but  meat  can  stow  away 
an  incredible  amount  of  food." 

On  the  fourth  evening  the  travellers 
made  camp  in  a  fine  grove  of  cottonwoods  on 
the  bank  of  the  Missouri.     The  problem  of 


GUACALOTE  185 

crossing  the  river  next  morning,  as  Pete  had 
hinted,  was  very  simple.  The  weather  had 
been  cold  enough  so  the  river  was  frozen 
over  solid  in  places  where  the  current  was 
fairlv  slow. 

From  this  camp  they  followed  the  river; 
two  men  carefully  scouting  ahead  on  the 
lookout  for  Indians.  Game,  fuel,  and  water 
were  plentiful,  and  as  there  was  no  snow  on 
the  ground,  travelling  through  the  keen  air 
of  late  autumn  was  a  delight.  The  boys  had 
become  hardened,  and  their  appetites  de- 
manded from  four  to  six  pounds  of  fat  meat 
a  day,  for  they  ate  practically  nothing  else, 
saving  their  little  flour  and  hardtack  for  a 
possible  emergency. 

For  cooking  their  meals,  they  gathered 
dry  wood,  so  as  to  make  as  little  smoke  as 
possible,  and  when  they  had  finished  cooking 
the  fire  was  put  out.  Although  there  was 
no  dearth  of  wood  and  the  boys  wanted  very 
much  to  build  a  big  camp-fire  after  dark,  Joe 
and  Pete  would  not  allow  it. 

"A  good  red  camp-fire  would  be  fine  these 
cold  nights,"  Pete  and  Joe  granted,  "  but 


186     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

we  don't  want  to  build  any  signal  fires  for 
Sitting  BulFs  scouts  and  hunters." 

"  What  would  they  do  if  they  found  us?  " 
asked  Don.  "  We  could  tell  them  that  we 
were  just  on  our  way  to  Bozeman." 

"  Wall,  I  know  what  they  would  want  to 
do,"  said  Pete,  "  and  I  shouldn't  invite  them 
to  a  talk." 

"What  would  they  want  to  do?"  ques- 
tioned Hank. 

"  Wall,"  Pete  answered  dryly,  "  I  reckon 
society  is  pretty  dull  in  Sitting  Bull's  camp 
just  now,  and  four  nice  cotton  wood  poles 
with  a  fresh  scalp  at  the  end  of  each  would 
get  up  a  little  real  excitement — a  pleasant 
little  diversion,  I  reckon  you  say  in  Boston." 


I 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  BLIZZARD 

On  the  morning  of  the  eighth  day  the 
weather  was  remarkably  warm  and  quiet. 

"  We  are  going  to  have  an  Indian  smn- 
mer,"  the  boys  declared,  as  they  put  their 
heavy  coats  on  the  packhorses. 

But  Pete  and  Joe  were  not  so  elated  about 
the  fine  weather. 

"  I  am  much  suspicious  about  an  Indian 
summer  in  this  country  in  the  middle  of 
November,"  asserted  Pete.  "  I  remember 
too  well  how  these  warm  days  used  to  end  at 
Fort  Totten. 

"Joe,  those  tall  buttes  off  yonder  must  be 

on  the  Little  Missouri.     Take  your  glass 

and  scout  a  bit  for  signs  of  our  red  friends. 

It  is  about  time  we  meet  some  of  them;  not 

that  I  am  exactly  pining  for  their  company. 

I  think  our  appearance  might  shock  them. 

187 


188     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

You  and  I,  Joe,  are  beginning  to  look  a  trifle 
scrubby  around  the  chin." 

Joe  reported  that  he  could  discover  no 
smoke  or  dust  or  any  sigji  of  either  Indians 
or  white  men.  Pete  and  the  boys  took  the 
glass  in  turn,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  human 
beings.  Small  herds  of  buffaloes,  a  bunch 
of  elk  and  a  herd  of  antelope  they  could  make 
out,  but  all  the  animals  were  quietly  feeding 
or  lying  down,  and  showed  no  sign  of  having 
been  disturbed  by  hunters.  Some  herds 
were  slowly  travelling  west. 

"  I  guess  they  are  going  to  water,"  sug- 
gested Joe. 

"  Maybe  they  are  looking  for  a  good 
camp,"  Pete  put  in.  "  All  right,  men.  The 
trail  is  clear.  I  say  we  march  along  to  get 
off  the  open  prairie.  This  fine  weather 
ought  to  be  extra  fine  among  the  buttes  of 
the  Bad  Lands." 

Within  an  hour,  a  dark  rim  began  to  ap- 
pear on  the  western  horizon.  The  boys  paid 
no  special  attention  to  it,  but  Pete  and  Joe 
exchanged  anxious  remarks  and  glances,  and 
urged  the  horses  to  a  faster  walk. 


THE  BLIZZARD  189 

"  ^Yhat  do  you  make  of  it? "  asked  Pete, 
after  Joe  had  been  scanning  the  rapidly 
growing  cloud  through  his  glass. 

"A  dust-storm,  I  think,"  answered  Joe 
doubtfully. 

"Anyhow,"  asserted  Pete,  "  there's  wind 
in  that  black  cloud.  See  how  quick  it  rises! 
Joe,  I  am  afraid  it  is  worse  than  a  dust- 
storm.  It  looks  like  a  snowstorm  to  me. 
Let  us  go  straight  for  that  little  grove  of 
cottonwoods  below  the  nearest  butte,  and  the 
sooner  we  get  there  the  better." 

For  half  an  hour  they  travelled  in  silence, 
watching  the  black  cloud  spreading  and  ris- 
ing rapidly  over  the  Avhole  western  sky. 
Now,  after  it  had  obscured  the  sun,  its  black 
color  seemed  less  pronounced,  but  it  spread  a 
foreboding  murky  gray  over  the  plain  and 
over  the  ragged  broken  Bad  Lands  ahead  of 
the  travellers. 

"  Get  into  your  fur  coats,  boys,"  called 
Pete,  "  and  put  on  your  caps  and  fur  mit- 
tens! A  storm  is  coming  up  fast.  Look, 
the  game  is  all  going  for  shelter  to  the 
broken  country.      Let  us  lose  no  time  in 


190     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

reaching  shelter,  but  we  must  not  get  our 
horses  heated." 

The  storm  was  indeed  coming  up  fast.  A 
cloud  of  black  dust,  picked  up  over  a  dis- 
tant burnt  area  and  from  the  bare  slopes  and 
cliffs  of  the  Bad  Lands,  came  whirling  over 
the  buttes  and  broken  country  with  a  cold 
blast,  and  was  immediately  followed  by  a 
thin  flurry  of  snow,  consisting  of  fine  crystals 
of  ice. 

The  air  seemed  quickly  to  be  filling  with 
this  fine  snow,  the  wind  was  rapidly  increas- 
ing in  violence,  and  the  travellers  found  it 
difficult  to  breathe  and  keep  their  eyes  open 
in  the  face  of  the  storm  and  the  stinging  ice 
dust. 

The  horses  needed  no  urging,  but  had  to 
be  held  back  from  breaking  into  a  run  for 
the  shelter  ahead. 

When  the  four  horsemen  reached  the 
grove  of  cottonwoods  and  willows  under  the 
lee  of  a  butte,  the  dust-storm  had  changed 
into  a  snowstorm. 

"  Strap  the  blankets  on  the  horses,"  or- 
dered Joe,  "  and  gather  all  the  wood  you 


THE  BLIZZARD  191 

can  find,  while  Pete  and  I  arrange  the  packs 
and  set  up  the  tepee.  Turn  the  horses  loose; 
we  must  not  picket  them  in  the  storm." 

"  But,  Joe,"  urged  Hank,  "  there  is  no 
water  in  this  river ;  only  a  few  pools  of  ice." 

"  Never  mind,  boys,"  Pete  pressed  them. 
"  Take  one  of  the  axes  and  get  wood. 
Gather  all  the  dry  stuif  you  can  find,  but 
cut  some  green  poles,  too.  Hurry  up,  boys ! 
We  shall  need  a  lot  of  it,  and  it  will  soon  be 
dark." 

The  storm  was  growing  in  violence  every 
minute  and  the  air  was  filling  with  whirling 
snow. 

"  Be  careful,  boys,"  called  Joe  as  he  and 
Pete  struggled  with  the  flapping  tepee, 
"  that  you  don't  get  lost!  " 

In  a  short  time  the  tepee  was  up,  and  the 
boys  had  gathered  a  goodly  pile  of  wood. 

"  Tie  the  picket-ropes  together,"  called 
Pete,  "  and  run  the  rope  out  to  your  cutting 
place.  Joe  and  I  will  pile  the  goods  around 
the  tent,  so  the  wind  cannot  get  under  the 
sides.  Get  some  more  wood!  You  have 
only  half  enough." 


192    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

When  the  tent  was  ready  Joe  and  Pete 
ran  along  the  rope  trying  to  keep  their  eyes 
open  in  the  blinding  whirls  of  fine  sharp 
snow. 

"  Come,  boys,"  Joe  called.  "  Everybody 
take  an  armful  of  wood  and  run  back  along 
the  rope.  Bring  the  ax,  Hank.  Come, 
boys !    We  can't  work  any  longer. 

"  Pete,  pull  the  rope  in,  and  all  get  into 
the  tent.  We  reached  shelter  none  too  soon. 
Listen!    How  the  storm  begins  to  howl!  " 

Although  the  sun  was  still  an  hour  high,  it 
was  dark  inside  the  tent;  while  outside,  the 
whole  world  seemed  a  gray  whirling  mass  of 
wind  and  fine  stinging  snow  that  seemed  to 
come  from  all  directions  and  sifted  into  every 
hole  and  crevice. 

Joe  started  a  fire  with  dry  sticks  and  be- 
gan to  make  supper,  while  Pete  lit  his  old 
pipe  and  seated  himself  comfortably  on  his 
blankets. 

Soon  the  odor  of  coffee,  frying  bacon,  and 
venison  filled  the  tent. 

"  Now,  friends,  fall  to,"  said  Joe  as  he  set 
out  the  tin  plates  and  cups.    "  Melting  snow 


THE  BLIZZARD  193 

and  ice  is  a  pretty  slow  way  of  making 
coffee,  but  we  have  plenty  of  time  now.  Eat 
slow,  boys ;  we  shall  be  gentlemen  of  leisure 
for  a  while." 

Fine  snow  crystals  kept  whirling  through 
the  smoke-hole.  For  a  few  seconds  they 
glistened  in  the  light  of  the  fire,  then  they 
vanished ;  but  near  the  edges  of  the  tent,  they 
soon  covered  everything  with  a  fine  white 
dust.  Outside,  the  storm  howled  around  the 
cliffs ;  it  roared  through  the  trees,  and  rattled 
the  bare  frozen  branches  against  one  an- 
other. 

When  supper  was  over  and  the  fire  had 
burnt  low,  Joe  closed  the  smoke-flap  and  lit 
a  candle. 

"  We  won't  have  to  travel  to-morrow,  and, 
I  reckon,  Sitting  Bull  and  his  braves  are  not 
hunting  for  scalps  to-night.  It  sounds  like 
a  regular  blizzard  outside.  I  hope  our 
horses  have  found  a  safe,  sheltered  spot.  I 
wish  we  could  take  the  poor  beasts  inside 
with  us." 

"  They  are  all  right,"  asserted  Pete.  "  You 
picked  out  a  regular  bmich  of  Indian  ponies. 


194     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

I  wonder  where  old  Stearn  at  Bismarck  got 
them.  You  couldn't  pull  them  under  a 
roof.  I  know,  because  I  tried  it  at  Fort 
Totten." 

"  Pete,  you  are  a  heathen  Indian,"  Joe 
bantered  his  friend.  "  Tell  us  a  yarn.  But 
none  of  that  deep  lake  at  Devil's  Heart.  If 
you  don't  stick  to  the  truth,  you  sleep  out- 
side to-night." 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  WAGON-BOX  FIGHT 

As  is  the  case  with  most  frontiersmen  and 
Indians,  the  stories  of  Cactus  Pete  only- 
flowed  when  Pete  was  in  the  mood. 

This  evening,  with  the  storm  raging  and 
moaning  and  a  light  shimmer  of  fine  snow 
crystals  drifting  in  at  the  peak  of  the  tepee 
and  secretly  entering  through  a  few  small 
rents  in  the  old  buffalo  skins,  Pete  was  in  a 
reminiscent  mood. 

He  was  a  big  boy  again,  enjoying  the 
wild  commotion  of  nature,  although  his  re- 
marks were  neither  elegant  nor  delicate. 

"  Hear  her  howl,  lads,"   he  would  say. 

"  Listen  to  her  roaring  like  a  mad  buffalo 

bull.     Them  sailor  lads  brag  about  storms, 

and  I  reckon  they  run  into  some  good  ones. 

But  listen  to  this,  boys!    It's  real  music,  like 

the  bass  and  horns  in  the  big  organ  of  the 

bishop's  church  in  St.  Louis. 

195 


196     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  There's  some  men,  Joe,  who  love  Cali- 
fornia or  Florida.  Not  I.  Give  me  a  coun- 
try where  I  can  hear  the  song  of  the  storm! 
It  is  God's  own  organ  playing  among  the 
buttes  and  the  cottonwoods !  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  grand  music,"  agreed  Joe, 
''  when  you  sit  around  a  fire  or  a  candle  with 
a  wami  supper  inside  of  you.  But  what 
about  our  poor  beasts  outside,  with  no  water 
and  no  food? " 

"  They  will  eat  snow  for  a  drink,"  argued 
Pete.  "  Eating  snow  does  not  go  well  with 
humans,  but  Indian  ponies  and  buffaloes 
don't  mind  it.  They  quit  going  to  water 
when  there  is  snow  on  the  plains." 

"  But  they  must  starve  or  freeze  to 
death,"  remarked  Don.  "  It  is  getting  cold 
in  the  tepee.  I  am  going  to  put  on  my  big 
coat." 

"  They  always  have  a  big  coat  on  in  win- 
ter," Pete  replied,  "  and  they  don't  starve  so 
very  soon,  I  reckon.  These  ponies  have 
weathered  more  than  one  blizzard;  but  I  am 
going  to  look  for  them  at  daylight." 

For  a  while  the  four  campers  sat  in  silence 


THE  WAGON-BOX  FIGHT         197 

around  the  candle,  where  light  was  weirdly 
reflected  from  the  red  faces  of  the  boys  and 
from  the  strong,  bearded  visages  of  the  men. 

"  I  wonder,"  Pete  began  after  some  time, 
"  where  the  hostile  Sioux  and  Cheyennes 
made  their  winter  camps. 

"  I  guess  they  are  south  of  the  Yellow- 
stone in  the  big  game  country  on  Powder 
River,  on  the  Rosebud  or  on  the  Big  Horn." 

"  Wall,  now,"  objected  Pete,  "  they  can't 
all  camp  in  one  region.  There  are  too  many 
of  them.  It  would  not  surprise  me,  if  some 
of  them  had  pitched  their  tepees  north  of  the 
Yellowstone  on  the  Little  Missouri  south  of 
here.  That  is  a  good  game  country.  Per- 
haps old  Sitting  Bull  is  not  so  very  far  from 
here,  and  some  of  his  young  hunters  may 
look  us  up,  after  the  weather  turns  mild 
again." 

"  Sitting  Bull!  What  a  hmny  name!" 
said  Hank.  "  Why  did  they  give  him  that 
name  f 

"  I  can  tell  you  that,"  answered  Pete. 
"When  Sitting  Bull  was  a  boy,  his  tribe 
had  made  a  great  buffalo  hunt,  and  the  In- 


198    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

dian  boys  were  trying  to  catch  some  of  the 
calves.  This  boy  caught  a  big  strong  calf 
by  the  ears.  In  its  efforts  to  get  away,  the 
young  bull  backed  into  a  buffalo  wallow  and 
sat  down  on  his  haunches.  *  He  made  the 
bull  sit  down!'  exclaimed  the  hunters,  and 
ever  since,  the  boy  has  been  called  Sitting 
Bull.  He  is  a  great  medicine  man  and  has 
much  influence  amongst  the  Indians.  If  he 
had  ever  done  great  deeds  in  war,  they 
would  have  given  him  another  name." 

Joe  lifted  the  door-flap  a  little  and  peeped 
out.  "  Whoo,  what  a  terrible  blizzard!  "  he 
exclaimed.  "  It  is  pitch  dark,  and  we  are 
already  snowed  in.  Get  your  beds  ready, 
boys,  and  let  us  all  roll  in.  It  is  an  awful 
night  outside!" 

The  boys  were  soon  sound  asleep,  but 
Joe  cut  some  dry  shavings  with  his  hunting- 
knife  and  laid  the  wood  ready  on  the  fire- 
place, while  Pete  looked  on  in  silence,  listen- 
ing to  the  storm,  which  was  still  increasing  in 
violence,  rushing  over  the  buttes  and 
through  the  trees  in  a  dull  wild  roar. 

"  It  is  a  great  storm,"  remarked  Pete,  as 


THE  WAGON-BOX  FIGHT         199 

he  pulled  a  blanket  gently  over  the  heads  of 
the  boys.  "  The  night  will  grow  cold,  and 
we  had  better  all  sleep  Indian  fashion." 

When  the  candle  was  blown  out,  the  dark- 
ness in  the  tepee  was  absolute. 

"  I  reckon,"  remarked  Pete,  "it  is  about 
as  dark  now  in  our  tepee  as  it  is  in  a  hole 
in  the  ground.  It  is  a  merciful  thing  that 
badgers  and  gophers  and  prairie-dogs  can 
den  up  during  the  winter." 

"  I  wish  our  ponies  could  den  up,  too,"  re- 
marked Joe,  as  he  turned  over  drowsily.  "  I 
am  glad  we  brought  blankets  for  them," 
and  very  soon  the  men  were  as  sound  asleep 
as  the  boys. 

About  the  time  of  reveille  Pete  woke  up. 
He  struck  a  match  and  made  sure  that  the 
boys  were  warm  and  comfortable. 

"  She  is  still  a-roaring,"  he  said  to  Joe, 
who  opened  his  eyes  and  shook  a  layer  of 
powdered  snow  off  his  blankets.  ''  I  reckon 
we  might  as  well  turn  over  for  a  few  hours 
more.  There  will  be  no  travelling  for  a  day 
or  two.  We  are  denned  up  like  the  badgers 
and  gophers." 


200     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

There  is  a  limit,  however,  to  the  time 
which  men  and  even  boys  can  sleep;  and 
about  two  hours  after  the  usual  time  for 
reveille,  Don  woke  up  and  began  to  punch 
Hank. 

"Wake  up,  Hank!  "he  called.  "  It  must 
be  daylight  outside.  Wake  up,  we  are  all 
snowed  in."  And  he  began  to  wash  Hank's 
face  with  a  handful  of  snoAV,  which  brought 
the  elder  brother  out  of  his  blankets  so 
quick  that  Don,  in  turn,  had  his  face  rubbed 
over  a  snow-covered  buffalo  robe  before  he 
was  able  to  defend  himself.  In  a  moment 
the  two  lads  scuffled  all  over  the  tepee.  Now 
one  was  on  top,  now  the  other.  They 
tmiibled  over  Joe's  neat  woodpile  and 
rattled  the  tin  pans  all  over  the  tepee. 

"  Here,  you  young  Injuns! "  cried  Pete. 
"No  fighting  in  the  house!"  And  with 
these  words  he  chucked  one  after  the  other 
into  a  deep,  soft  snow-bank  outside,  where 
they  landed  with  a  scream  of  surprise. 

"  Let  us  in,  let  us  in,"  begged  Don; ''  we'll 
be  good! " 

"  All  right,"  remarked  Pete.     "  A  snow 


THE  WAGOX-BOX  FIGHT         201 

bath  is  much  better  than  a  shower  bath. 
You  both  needed  a  good  wash.  Now  go 
back  to  bed;  it  is  too  early  to  get  up." 

"  It  isn't,  either,"  claimed  Don.  "  I'm  not 
a  bit  sleepy,  but  I  am  hungry." 

"  Wall,  Joe,"  Pete  relented,  "  we  had  bet- 
ter roll  out  and  give  these  young  wolves 
something  to  eat." 

The  storm  outside  still  rushed  over  the 
plain  with  unbroken  fury.  "  Listen,  Hank," 
said  Don,  "  it  roars  just  like  Niagara  Falls, 
when  you  are  a  little  way  off. 

"  Joe,  how  do  you  think  our  horses  are? 
Hank  and  I  are  going  to  put  on  our  boots 
and  big  coats  after  breakfast  and  look  for 
them." 

"  All  right,"  Pete  told  them;  "  I  want  you 
to  take  a  biscuit  to  my  pony." 

Joe  insisted  that  the  boys  take  hold  of  the 
rope,  when  they  left  the  tepee  half  an  hour 
later. 

"  Don,  don't  you  lose  my  biscuit,"  Pete 
called  after  them  as  they  crept  out  of  the 
tepee.  "And  don't  you  let  go  of  the 
repel 


202     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Kids  is  kids,"  he  chuckled  to  Joe. 
"  They  won't  go  far." 

Now  the  voices  of  the  lads  were  lost,  and 
Pete  at  once  became  anxious.  "  Darn  it, 
Joe,"  he  said,  "  I  fear  these  fool  kids  won't 
hang  on  to  the  rope  after  all. 

"  Hey !  You  blooming  young  idiots ! "  he 
shouted  into  the  storm  as  he  gave  the  rope 
a  smart  pull.  "  Get  back  here !  Haven't 
you  got  sense  enough  to  go  in  in  a  blizzard? 
Do  you  expect  us  to  dig  you  out?  Come 
back  here,  you  dummies!  " 

And  to  his  satisfaction  the  lads  came 
tumbling  and  crawling  back  along  the  rope, 
looking  like  a  pair  of  Eskimos  that  had  just 
crawled  out  of  a  snowbank. 

Both  of  them  had  their  eyes  and  ears 
closed  with  frozen  snow,  and  the  men  had 
a  hearty  laugh  at  their  snorting  and  blow- 
ing, as  they  cleared  their  faces  of  snow. 

"  Whow!"  cried  Hank,  when  he  caught 
his  breath.  "  You  can't  see  five  yards  ahead, 
and  the  fine  stuff  just  closes  your  eyes  and 
the  terrible  wind  chokes  the  breath  out  of 
you !     I  bet  our  horses  are  all  dead." 


THE  WAGON-BOX  FIGHT         203 

"  Wall,  if  they  are,"  admitted  Pete,  "  we 
can't  help  it.  I  reckon  you  are  convinced 
now  that  we  cannot  do  anything  for  them 
while  it  blows  like  this. 

"  Joe,  keep  the  fire  going,  and  I'll  tell  you 
about  the  big  fight  in  the  wagon-box.  We 
won't  have  a  thing  to  do  all  day." 

"  How  could  you  fight  Indians  in  a 
wagon-box?"  asked  Don,  a  little  incredu- 
lous. 

"  Wall,  it  wasn't  a  fight  in  just  one 
wagon-box,"  Pete  explained.  "  We  fought 
them  in  a  wagon-box  corral,  but  we  always 
spoke  of  it  as  the  Wagon-Box  Fight. 

"  You  see,  it  was  at  Fort  Phil  Kearney,  in 
Wyoming,  in  the  summer  of  1867.  It  was 
the  worst  place  for  Indian  fights  there  ever 
was  on  earth. 

*'  We  built  the  fort  in  the  summer  of  1866 
on  the  Little  Piney,  which  is  one  of  the  head 
creeks  of  Powder  River. 

"  Wall,  lads,  nobody  could  tell  of  all  the 
fights  we  had  with  the  Indians,  unless  he 
had  made  a  book  and  written  in  it  every  day. 

"  We  had  to  cut  all  our  logs  and  firewood 


204     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

seven  miles  from  the  fort,  but  we  could  not 
cut  or  haul  a  log  without  a  heavy  guard. 
There  was  lots  of  game,  but  General  Car- 
rington  had  to  forbid  all  hunting,  for  it  was 
almost  certain  death  for  one  or  two  men  to 
leave  the  fort. 

"  How  many  Indians  we  killed,  I  don't 
know,  they  always  carry  off  their  dead,  but 
through  the  summer  and  fall  the  Indians 
killed  more  than  a  hundred  white  soldiers 
and  citizens." 

"  What  Indians  were  they?"  asked  Don. 

"  They  were  nearly  all  Sioux  under  Chief 
Red  Cloud,  but  there  were  some  Cheyennes 
with  them. 

"  It  was  a  few  days  before  Christmas,  on 
the  21st,  if  I  remember  right,  that  the  In- 
dians again  attacked  the  wood-train,  a  train 
of  teams  and  wagons,  I  mean.  They  had 
the  train  and  the  guard  surrounded  and 
Captain  Fetterman  was  sent  out  with  eighty 
men  to  relieve  the  wood-train.  General  Car- 
rington,  who  understood  the  situation  and 
knew  that  the  country  was  full  of  Indians, 
thousands  of  them,  ordered  Fetterman  not 


THE  WAGOX-BOX  FIGHT         205 

to  pursue  the  Indians.  Fetterman  had  a 
great  contempt  for  the  Sioux  as  fighters. 
He  and  other  young  officers  and  many  of 
the  soldiers  thought  they  knew  a  lot  more 
than  the  commanding  general.  Fetterman 
had  bragged  that,  with  eighty  men,  he  could 
ride  through  the  whole  Sioux  nation." 

"  Did  he  relieve  the  wood-train?  "  ques- 
tioned Hank. 

"  Yes,  he  did.  That  is,  the  Indians  left 
the  wood-train  as  soon  as  their  scouts  re- 
ported that  more  soldiers  were  coming. 

"  In  some  way  they  led  Fetterman  on  be- 
yond a  ridge,  which  he  had  been  ordered  not 
to  cross.  He  disobeyed  his  orders,  and  he 
and  every  man  in  his  command  lost  their 
lives. 

"  It  was  a  terrible  loss,  for  it  wiped  out 
about  one-fourth  of  the  whole  garrison." 

"  But  this  vv^as  not  the  Wagon-Box 
Fight?  "asked  Don. 

"  No,  it  was  not.  That  came  next  sum- 
mer, in  1867,  but  I  had  to  tell  you  first 
something  about  our  life  at  Fort  Phil  Kear- 
ney on  the  Little  Piney,  in  Wyoming. 


206    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"We  had  many  fights  all  through  the 
winter,  but  we  fought  them  from  the 
wagon-boxes  on  August  second,  '67. 

"  It  was  on  Piney  Island,  and  my  com- 
pany, under  Major  James  Powell,  had  been 
sent  to  protect  the  contractors  who  were 
cutting  wood  on  the  island,  and  I  never  ex- 
pect to  see  a  hotter  fight. 

"  I  don't  know  why  the  place  was  called 
an  island,  it  was  just  a  big  piece  of  pine 
timber  with  some  open  spots.  Piney  Creek 
ran  on  one  side  of  it,  and  I  believe  there  was 
a  dry  run  on  the  other  side;  maybe  that 
is  the  reason  General  Carrington  called  the 
place  Piney  Island.  In  one  of  the  open 
spots  we  had  made  a  corral  of  wagon-boxes, 
and  in  this  corral  we  kept  the  forage  for  the 
horses  and  some  supplies  for  the  men." 
'  "But,  Pete,  why  did  you  fight  from 
wagon -boxes? "  asked  Don. 

"  Just  wait  a  bit,  son,  and  you  will  know. 
If  it  hadn't  been  for  the  wagon-boxes,  I 
wouldn't  be  Cactus  Pete  any  more,  and  I 
wouldn't  be  denned  up  here  telling  you 
about  it.     We  were  just  thirty-two  white 


THE  WAGON-BOX  FIGHT         207 

men  in  that  fight,  thirty-two,  remember,  but 
there  was  a  whole  woods  full  of  Indians, 
3,000  of  them,  maybe  more." 

The  boys  looked  dubiously  at  Joe. 
*'  That's  right,  lads,"  Joe  volunteered. 
"  This  is  a  true  story  and  the  nmnbers  are 
right.  Of  course,  nobody  counted  the  In- 
dians, but  Red  Cloud,  who  was  then  the 
most  famous  war  chief,  had  all  his  braves 
there,  and  was  determined  to  destroy  Fort 
Phil  Kearney." 

"  Wall,  the  row  started  in  earnest  on  Au- 
gust second,  pretty  early  in  the  morning," 
continued  Pete,  who  was  now  warming  up 
to  his  story. 

"  The  hills  and  the  woods  were  just  run- 
ning over  with  Indians.  They  fell  upon  the 
wood-train  and  the  woodcutters,  but  when 
we,  that  is  twenty-six  of  us  under  Captain 
Powell  and  Lieutenant  Jenness,  went  after 
them,  they  let  the  train  and  the  woodcutters 
get  away  and  all  made  for  us.  Of  course, 
we  couldn't  stop  them  and  we  retreated  into 
a  wagon-box  corral  on  an  open  spot  in  the 
woods.     Four  civilians  joined  us  here;  all 


208     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

four  were  frontiersmen  and  good  shots.  We 
were  plumb  glad  to  see  them." 

"  Did  they  give  you  time  to  make  the  cor- 
ral? "  asked  Don. 

"  No,  lads,  we  had  made  it  before.  Four- 
teen wagon-boxes  and  two  wagons  we  had 
arranged  like  this,"  and  Pete  drew  a  dia- 
gram on  the  ground. 


"  We  kept  all  kinds  of  supplies  in  this 
corral,  bales  of  clothing,  sacks  of  corn,  and 
other  things.  With  big  augers  we  had 
drilled  loopholes  in  the  wagon-boxes,  and  we 
piled  sacks  of  corn  and  goods  against  the 
inside  of  the  boxes  and  between  them;  any- 
thing that  would  turn  a  bullet  we  used  in 
our  little  fort. 

"  We  had  plenty  of  breech-loading  rifles, 
the  Allen  model  of  the  old  Springfields,  and 


THE  WAGON-BOX  FIGHT         209 

plenty  of  Colt's  revolvers  and  lots  of  am- 
munition. Some  men,  who  were  poor  shots, 
were  detailed  to  do  nothing  but  load  the 
guns. 

"  It  was  lucky  that  the  Reds  gave  us  a 
little  time  to  get  ready,  while  they  stopped 
to  plunder  and  burn  the  woodcutters'  camp. 
But  now  they  were  surely  coming  for  us. 

"  *  Pete,  thar's  a  thousand  of  them! '  my 
partner  in  the  box  whispered.  *  Look,  they 
are  going  to  ride  plumb  over  us ! ' 

"  Wall,  on  they  came  with  a  rush,  all 
painted  up  and  in  their  war  bonnets,  600  of 
them  I  should  say.  When  the  solid  mass 
was  within  fifty  yards  of  us.  Captain  Powell 
called,  ^Firel' 

"Down  they  came,  ponies  and  men;  we 
couldn't  miss  them.  But  they  didn't  stop. 
They  divided  and  circled  around  us,  and  you 
may  believe  we  kept  the  guns  blazing  at 
them,  and  they  did  not  spare  us  either.  But 
we  got  them  rattled;  for  each  of  us  had 
two  breech-loaders  and  one  old  trapper  used 
eight  gims. 

"  I  reckon  they  had  figured  we  would  give 


210     THE  THKEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

them  one  volley  and  then  they  would  ride 
over  us  and  finish  us  quick.  I  never  heard 
of  Indians  standing  so  much  punishment, 
but  our  steady  blaze  was  too  much  for  them. 
They  broke  and  fled  out  of  range,  what  there 
was  left  of  them.  In  front  of  the  corral, 
where  they  had  made  the  first  charge,  there 
was  a  terrible  sight;  dead  and  wounded 
horses  and  men  lying  as  thick  as  if  they 
had  been  mowed  down. 

"  But  they  did  not  intend  to  give  up.  Red 
Cloud  now  sent  out  some  700  skirmishers  on 
foot,  and  they  kept  up  a  steady  fire  of  guns 
and  arrows.  The  arrows  did  not  worry  us 
much;  we  caught  them  in  blankets  spread 
over  the  wagon-boxes. 

"  By  and  by  they  must  Have  thought  that 
most  of  us  were  dead,  for  we  only  fired  when 
we  could  see  a  head.  Now  the  whole  mob,  I 
should  say  a  thousand  of  them,  started  to 
charge  us  on  foot.  On  they  came,  nearer 
and  nearer  in  spite  of  our  bullets  dropping 
them  right  and  left.  So  close  they  came, 
that  some  of  the  soldiers  lost  their  nerve  and 
threw  augers  and  other  tools  at  them.     It 


THE  WAGON-BOX  FIGHT         211 

was  a  terrible  moment.  The  foremost  In- 
juns were  within  a  few  feet  of  the  corral. 
If  they  once  got  inside  for  a  hand-to-hand 
fight  our  little  band  could  last  only  a  few 
minutes.  Fortunately  most  of  our  men  kept 
up  a  deadly  fire  with  rifles  and  pistols,  which 
just  in  the  nick  of  time  proved  more  than 
they  could  stand.  They  broke  and  ran  for 
the  hills,  from  which  Red  Cloud  and  the  old 
chiefs  and  the  women  and  children  had  been 
watching  the  fight. 

"  They  made  four  charges  after  this  one, 
but  in  none  of  these  did  they  come  danger- 
ously near  the  corral. 

"  In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  Red 
Cloud  sent  out  his  skirmishers  again,  and 
we  thought  the  end  had  come.  But  they  had 
had  enough,  and  only  tried  to  carry  off  their 
dead  and  wounded,  and  we  could  now 
plainly  hear  the  death  songs  of  the  old  men 
and  women. 

"  About  three  in  the  afternoon  a  shell 
burst  in  the  midst  of  the  Indian  skirmishers, 
and  we  saw  soldiers  in  blue  charging  the  In- 
dians.    And  you  ought  to  have  heard  the 


212     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

hurrahs  from  the  soldiers  and  from  our  men 
in  the  wagon-boxes. 

"  The  guard  and  the  woodcutters  had 
brought  the  news  of  our  plight  to  the  fort 
and  Major  Smith  with  a  hundred  men  and  a 
howitzer  had  been  sent  to  our  relief. 

"  The  Sioux  could  have  destroyed  us  all, 
but  they  had  lost  heart.  We  retreated  to 
the  fort  without  another  attack,  and  left  the 
corral  to  the  Indians. 

"  And  that  is  the  story  of  our  fight  in  the 
Wagon-Box  and  how  we  got  out  alive." 

"  Didn't  you  lose  any  men  at  all?  "  asked 
Hank. 

"  Yes,  we  did.  Lieutenant  Jenness  and  a 
soldier  were  killed  and  two  men  were 
wounded.  It  has  always  been  a  mystery  to 
me  that  not  more  of  us  were  killed,  but  In- 
dians under  excitement  are  poor  shots  and 
we  had  fixed  up  a  mighty  good  fort. 

"  Of  course,  if  they  had  caught  us  in  the 
open,  or  had  attacked  us  in  the  open,  while 
we  were  marching  back  to  the  fort,  not  a 
man  would  have  been  left  to  tell  the  story. 

"  Believe  me,  boys,  there  never  was  such  a 


THE  WAGON-BOX  FIGHT         213 

fort  for  fights  and  more  fights  as  Fort  Phil 
Kearney  on  the  Little  Pmey  in  Wyommg. 

"  It  is  a  shame  that  the  government  aban- 
doned it.  I  heard  that  the  Indians  burnt  it 
as  soon  as  the  soldiers  had  left. 

"  Lord,  how  that  storm  roars!  " 


CHAPTER  XXI 

STRANGE  HORSE-FEED 

When  Pete  closed  his  story,  the  lads  had, 
at  once,  many  questions  to  ask. 

"  How  many  men  did  the  Indians  lose? " 
they  wanted  to  know. 

"  Wall,  lads,"  Pete  answered,  "  nobody 
can  tell  exactly,  but  we  must  have  killed 
and  wounded  a  thousand  of  them.  As  I  told 
you,  each  of  us  had  two  rifles  and,  at  least, 
one  six-shooter ;  and  an  old  trapper  who  was 
with  us  used  eight  guns. 

"  General  Sheridan  had  a  talk  with  this 
old  man  some  time  after  the  battle.  '  How 
many  Indians  did  you  kill? '  asked  the  Gen- 
eral. 

"  '  Wall,  General,  I  can't  say  for  sartin. 
But  give  me  a  dead  rest,  and  I  can  hit  a  dol- 
lar at  fifty  yards  every  time,  and  I  fired  with 
a  dead  rest  about  fifty  times.' 

"  '  Great  Scott!    How  many  guns  did  you 

use? ' 

214 


STRANGE  HORSE-FEED  215 

"  '  Wall,  General,  for  about  three  hours  I 
kept  eight  of  'em  pretty  well  het  up.' 

"  It  is  a  fact  that  many  of  the  guns  became 
so  heated  that  the  men  could  not  touch  them 
for  a  while.  Some  of  the  soldiers  who  had 
their  canteens  filled  used  the  water  to  cool 
the  guns.  Red  Cloud  admitted  some  years 
later  that  he  lost  half  of  his  men,  a..^  he  had 
about  3,000  warriors. 

"  The  Indians  were  dazed  at  their  terrible 
loss,  for  they  had  never  before  met  a  number 
of  determined  men  with  breech-loading 
rifles.  They  always  spoke  of  this  fight  as  the 
battle  in  which  the  whites  made  '  bad  medi- 
cine.' Indians  are  ver}^  superstitious,  and 
anything  which  goes  wrong  is  attributed  to 
'  bad  medicine.'  When  Major  Smith  re- 
lieved the  men,  they  were  so  nearly  ex- 
hausted that  they  could  not  have  resisted  an- 
other attack.  Some  of  them,  including 
Major  Powell,  never  recovered  from  the  ef- 
fects of  the  terrible  strain." 

"  How  did  the  Sioux  recover  their  dead 
and  wounded?  "  asked  the  boys. 

"  An  Indian  would  crawl  up,"  Pete  re- 


216     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

lated,  "  under  cover  of  bushes  or  trees  or 
under  his  war-shield,  fasten  a  rope  to  a  foot 
or  hand,  and  other  Indians  would  drag  the 
body  away,  but  those  near  the  corral  they 
did  not  get,  till  we  had  left.  Believe  me,  we 
were  glad  to  leave  and  did  not  stop  to  count 
the  dead." 

Whc  Pete  would  not  talk  any  more 
about  the  battle,  the  boys  went  outside  to 
cut  some  wood,  but  the  storm  was  so  bad 
that  it  was  impossible  to  stay  outside  more 
than  a  few  minutes  at  a  time.  So  they 
brought  in  long  sticks  and  fed  the  ends  into 
the  fire  after  the  manner  known  as  the  "  lazy 
man's  camp-fire." 

In  the  afternoon  Pete  grew  impatient  of 
being  idle  and,  the  rope  in  one  hand  and  the 
shovel  in  the  other,  he  started  out  to  find  the 
horses. 

In  ten  minutes  he  crawled  back  into  the 
tepee  looking  like  a  live  snow-man,  with  his 
eyes  and  mouth  closed  with  frozen  snow. 

"  It  is  no  use,  men,"  he  said,  brushing  the 
snow  out  of  his  eyes;  "  if  I  had  not  held  on 
to  the  rope,  I  could  not  have  found  the  tepee 


STRANGE  HORSE-FEED  217 

again.  We  cannot  do  a  thing  for  the  poor 
beasts.  Thank  God,  we  reached  shelter  and 
had  time  to  set  up  the  tepee.  If  we  had  not, 
we  should  have  frozen  to  death.  This  is  the 
worst  blizzard  I  ever  saw,  and  it  is  getting 
terribly  cold." 

"  A  winter  campaign,"  remarked  Joe, 
"  was  bad  enough  south  of  the  Arkansas,  but 
in  a  storm  like  this,  troops  and  horses  would 
freeze  to  death.  In  this  northern  country 
the  soldiers  would  be  as  helpless  as  the  In- 
dians." 

Late  in  the  afternoon  boys  and  men  had 
another  big  meal,  and  at  dusk  they  wrapped 
themselves  in  their  robes  and  blankets  for 
another  long  sleep,  with  the  storm  roaring  as 
fiercely  as  ever,  and  the  night  again  turning 
pitch-dark. 

The  next  morning,  however,  the  storm  had 
moderated,  but  the  weather  had  turned  so 
bitterly  cold  that  nothing  but  buffalo  coats 
and  fur  caps  kept  out  the  icy  blast. 

After  a  quick  breakfast,  all  four  of  them 
started  out  to  look  for  the  horses. 

Where  were  they?    Had  they  strayed  off 


218     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

before  the  wind  and  were  lost  or  frozen  to 
death?  In  that  case  men  and  boys  might 
have  to  go  back  once  more  to  Fort  Totten 
and  stay  there  mitil  spring.  If  indeed  they 
could  ever  reach  Fort  Totten  on  foot. 

It  was  now  possible  to  see  objects  at  a  dis- 
tance of  fifty  yards,  about  half  the  length 
of  a  city  block. 

For  half  an  hour,  they  searched  along  the 
side  of  the  butte,  and  the  lads  began  to  fear 
that  Pete  and  Joe  would  lose  their  bearing 
in  the  storm.  But  Pete  explained  that  the 
wind  was  coming  from  the  northwest  and 
was  not  likely  to  change  for  many  hours. 

"  If  the  snow  does  not  come  down  any 
thicker,"  he  promised,  "  I  can  find  the  way 
back,  because  I  can  tell  by  the  wind  that  we 
are  now  going  east." 

Joe  and  Pete  feared  that  the  horses  might 
not  have  found  any  good  shelter  because 
they  did  not  know  the  country. 

"  If  this  was  their  home  country,"  Joe  de- 
clared, "  I  would  not  look  for  them  at  all  in 
this  weather.  I  would  feel  sure  that  they 
had  found  shelter  as  quickly  as  wild  animals. 


STRANGE  HORSE-FEED  219 

Let  us  look  for  them  in  this  small  canyon.  I 
think  it  is  what  plainsmen  call  a  box- 
can  von." 

To  their  great  joy  they  came  suddenly 
upon  four  of  the  animals,  huddled  together 
under  a  cliff,  and  half  buried  in  a  snow-drift. 
One  of  the  anmials  neighed  when  he  heard 
the  voices  of  the  men. 

"There  they  are!  There  they  are!" 
shouted  Don.    "  I  bet  they  are  glad  to  see 


us." 


The  animals  did  not  seem  to  be  much  the 
worse  for  their  experience,  although  they 
looked  thin  and  cold. 

"  Don't  you  think  their  feet  are  frozen? " 
Don  wondered. 

"  I  have  often  thought  of  that  myself," 
Pete  replied.  "  I  have  known  of  horses  hav- 
ing their  ears  frozen  in  a  storm,  but  their  feet 
don't  seem  to  freeze,  although  it  is  a  riddle 
to  me  how  they  keep  them  warm.  The  jack- 
rabbit  has  his  toes  encased  in  a  sort  of  fur 
boot,  but  the  foot  of  a  horse  is  perfectly  bare. 
The  poor  critters  are  hungry,  and  we  must 
feed  them." 


220     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other  in  surprise. 
"  What  can  we  feed  them? "  they  asked. 

"  Dig  them  out/'  Pete  told  the  boys,  "  and 
then  take  them  over  to  those  cottonwoods 
and  cut  down  a  few  trees  for  them.  Yes,  I 
mean  it,"  he  added  as  the  boys  looked  doubt- 
fully at  each  other.  "  Cut  down  a  few  trees 
for  them,  while  Joe  and  I  look  for  the 
others." 

After  some  time  the  men  brought  two 
more  horses,  and  the  lads  saw  with  wonder 
how  the  horses  peeled  the  branches  of  the 
Cottonwood  and  ate  the  bark  with  great 
relish. 

"  Did  you  never  hear  of  horses  eating 
bark?  "  Pete  asked.  "  If  an  Indian  pony  has 
plenty  of  cottonwood  bark,  he  will  keep  in 
fairly  good  condition.  We  are  real  Indians 
now,  for  they  never  do  any  more  for  their 
ponies  than  cut  down  some  cottonwoods  for 
them." 

The  other  two  horses  could  not  be  found. 
"  They  may  be  dead,  and  buried  in  a  snow- 
drift," Pete  explained,  "  or  they  may  have 
wandered  off  some  distance.    If  we  do  not 


STEANGE  HORSE-FEED  221 

find  them  again,  we  have  to  get  along  with 
those  that  we  have  found.  A  good  many- 
Indian  ponies  die  every  winter,  and  most  of 
those  that  live  through  the  winter  are  very 
poor  and  weak  in  spring." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

UNSEEN   DANGER 

For  several  days  the  weather  was  so  cold 
that  both  men  and  boys  were  glad  to  stay  in 
camp  the  greater  part  of  the  day.  They  cut 
dry  wood  for  their  fire,  for  they  had  all 
learned  to  agree  with  Pete  that  a  tepee  with 
a  fire  in  it  is  apt  to  be  a  smoke-house,  unless 
the  wood  is  dry  and  the  fire  is  carefully 
tended. 

"  An  Indian,"  remarked  Pete  when  the 
boys  wiped  the  tears  out  of  their  eyes,  "  likes 
a  little  smoke.  If  you  boys  want  to  play 
Indians,  a  few  wreaths  of  smoke  should  not 
bother  you." 

Pete  and  Joe  discovered  that  their  camp 

was  only  a  few  rods  from  the  Little  Missouri, 

and  they  cut  a  hole  through  the  ice  to  get 

water.    It  had  been  a  revelation  to  the  boys 

to  learn  how  slowly  a  pailful  of  snow  would 

melt  and  how  little  water  it  made. 

"  Here,  lads,   take  a  good  drink,"  Joe 

222 


UNSEEN  DANGER  223 

called,  when  the  men  returned  with  two  pails 
of  water.  "  That  snow-water  is  pretty  flat 
stuff  for  drinking;  and  it  takes  all  day  to 
melt  enough  for  our  needs." 

The  boys  looked  after  the  horses  by 
cutting  down  some  more  cottonwoods  for 
them,  and  never  got  over  admiring  the  way 
in  which  the  hungry  aninals  peeled  the 
boughs  and  branches  clean,  and  they  won- 
dered how  the  Indian  ponies  learned  that 
Cottonwood  bark  was  as  good  as  grass  or  hay. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  all  horses  have  a 
liking  for  bark? "  Joe  reminded  them. 
"  Don't  you  remember  that  Uncle  Reuben 
told  you  never  to  tie  his  horse  to  a  tree? 
Even  a  farm  horse  or  carriage  horse,  that 
had  plenty  of  grass  and  hay,  will  start  eat- 
ing bark,  if  you  tie  him  to  a  tree  for  any 
length  of  time.  The  teeth  of  a  horse  seem 
to  be  made  for  peeling  bark,  while  coavs, 
deer,  and  buffaloes  have  no  front  teeth  in 
the  upper  jaw  and  they  find  peeling  bark 
pretty  hard  work." 

Although  the  campers  ate  only  two  meals 
a  day,  their  meat  was  going  very  fast,  and 


224.    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

as  soon  as  the  weather  moderated  a  little  all 
four  of  them  went  on  a  deer  hunt.  The 
game  had  all  left  the  open  country  and  had 
sought  shelter  in  the  small  gi'oves  and  thick- 
ets of  the  valley,  and  they  secured  two  fat 
deer  within  a  mile  of  the  camp. 

Hank  and  Don  were  proud  boys,  indeed, 
when  they  rode  back  to  camp,  each  with  a 
whole  deer  behind  the  saddle.  "  Now  we 
have  plenty  of  meat  for  a  long  time,"  Don 
exclaimed.  "  Joe,  you  surely  didn't  lie 
about  the  game  in  this  country.  Wouldn't 
the  boys  in  the  city  stare  if  they  could  see  us 
now?  I  wish  I  could  write  to  Fatty  Jones 
and  Skip  Tompkins.  They  said  we  would 
be  afraid  to  go  right  into  the  buffalo  country, 
but  I  would  rather  eat  venison  than  buffalo. 
Wouldn't  you,  Joe? 

The  old  soldier  smiled,  pleased  at  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  lad. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  "  I  prefer  fat  young 
buffalo  beef.  One  can  eat  that  longer  with- 
out tiring  of  it  than  any  other  kind  of  wild 
meat,  including  turkeys  and  prairie-chick- 
ens." 


UNSEEN  DANGER  225 

"  Oh,  Joe,"  called  Don,  "  there  sits  a  big 
jack-rabbit.  I  see  the  black  tips  of  his  ears. 
May  I  get  him?" 

"  All  right,"  assented  Joe.  "  I  don't  see 
him  yet.  He  is  hardly  worth  a  shot,  but  get 
him  if  you  can.  I'll  cook  us  a  hunter's  stew 
of  rabbit,  and  liver,  heart,  and  tripe  of  the 
deer.    We  must  not  waste  any  good  meat." 

*'Deer  tripe?"  questioned  Hank.  "  What 
is  tripe? " 

"  The  large  stomach  of  all  cud-chewing 
animals  like  deer,  elk,  moose,  buffalo,  cattle, 
and  sheep.  We  can  wash  it  in  the  river,  and 
you  will  find  it  mighty  fine  eating  when 
boiled  in  a  stew." 

"  Do  the  Indians  eat  it?  "  inquired  Don. 

"  They  certainly  do,"  Pete  chuckled  as  if 
he  thought  of  some  funny  incidents. 
"  When  meat  is  scarce  the  Indians  waste 
nothing  of  their  game.  They  eat  every- 
thing except  the  skin  and  bones,  and  they 
split  the  leg-bones  to  eat  the  marrow-fat." 

"  If  it  is  good  fat  we  shall  eat  it,"  declared 
the  boys.  "We  did  not  like  fat  meat  in 
town,  but  here  we  like  the  fat  meat  best." 


226     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  How  do  the  Indians  clean  their  game?  " 
asked  Don. 

"  Wall,  boys,  I  tell  you,"  Pete  explained 
laughing,  "  if  you  want  to  know  that,  just 
read  what  Lewis  and  Clark  tell  about  it. 
Joe  has  the  book  in  his  saddle-bag.  I  once 
saw  some  Indians  in  Minnesota  who  had 
killed  a  moose.  Wall,  you  may  believe  it  or 
not,  those  Injuns  camped  near  the  moose 
till  they  eat  it  up,  the  hull  of  it.  Just  like 
Lewis  and  Clark's  Injuns  eat  the  deer. 

"  Injims  reason  that  deer  and  moose  and 
buffalo  do  not  eat  anything  unclean,  so 
there  cannot  be  anything  unclean  in  them. 
Well,  you  fellows  had  better  read  Lewis  and 
Clark.  For  a  white  man,  Indians  are  not 
very  clean  cooks,  or  very  clean  in  anything." 

"  Hurry  up  a  little,  you  fellows,  all  three 
of  you,"  Joe  broke  into  their  talk;  "  we  have 
to  skin  our  deer  and  cut  up  the  meat  before 
it  freezes  stiff.  You  can  do  your  talking 
after  supper.  Get  some  more  wood,  you 
boys,  and  see  that  the  horses  are  all  right." 

The  boys  could  hardly  wait  till  the  hunt- 
er's stew  was  done  and  all  four  of  the  camp- 


UNSEEN  DANGER  227 

ers  ate  such  quantities  of  meat  that  Joe  de- 
clared laughing  they  would  have  to  go  after 
buffalo  and  elk  if  he  was  to  be  cook  for  such 
a  wolfish  crew. 

"  The  way  you  are  eating,  you  need  five 
or  six  pounds  of  meat  a  day,  each  one  of  you, 
and  the  venison  will  scarcely  last  us  a  week. 
We  have  to  live  on  the  country  now,  and 
save  our  little  flour  and  other  food  we 
brought  with  us,  but  you  can  each  have  a 
biscuit  of  hardtack  to-night,  for  this  chief 
is  making  a  big  feast  for  his  two  young 
hunters." 

Although  the  weather  had  moderated  a 
good  deal,  it  was  still  bitterly  cold ;  and  both 
Joe  and  Pete  did  not  consider  it  safe  to  start 
on  their  long  journey  to  Bozeman  with  the 
prospect  of  wearing  out  or  losing  their 
horses.  Both  agreed  that  they  ought  to  re- 
main on  the  Little  Missouri  till  most  of  the 
snow  had  melted  or  had  been  absorbed  by 
the  dry  air  of  the  plains. 

In  this  broken  country,  the  Bad  Lands  of 
the  Little  Missouri,  they  felt  sure  of  finding 
enough  game  for  themselves,  and  enough 


228     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

grass  or  cottonwoods  to  keep  their  horses 
alive.  The  shelter  for  themselves  and  their 
beasts  was  as  good  as  could  be  found  any- 
where on  the  Northern  Plains,  and  all  the 
four  campers  were  in  fine  health. 

There  was  only  one  thing  which  gave  them 
much  anxiety.  How  far  were  they  from 
the  nearest  Indian  camp?  True,  they  had 
seen  no  sign  of  Sioux  since  they  left  Fort 
Totten,  but  both  Joe  and  Pete  had  had  too 
much  experience  with  Indians  to  let  this  fact 
lull  them  into  a  feeling  of  careless  security. 

Some  of  the  Indians  on  Devil's  Lake  had 
told  Cactus  Pete  that  the  country  on  the 
Little  Missouri  was  a  favorite  winter  camp- 
ing-ground of  Sitting  Bull  and  his  peo- 
ple. 

The  Little  Missouri,  as  its  name  implies, 
is  but  a  small  stream  compared  with  its  great 
namesake,  which  drains  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  Great  Plains  and  a  large  part  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  a  region  as  large  as 
France,  Great  Britain,  and  Germany  to- 
gether. During  the  days  of  our  story  the 
Missouri  was  navigated  by  steamboats  from 


UjS'SEEN  danger  229 

St.  Louis  to  Fort  Benton,  INIontana,  a  dis- 
tance of  some  3,000  miles  by  river. 

Compared  with  this  mighty  stream,  one  of 
the  great  rivers  of  the  earth,  Wakpa-sheeka, 
the  Little  Missouri  is  only  a  small  river.  But 
compared  with  the  rivers  of  Europe  and  the 
smaller  streams  of  this  country,  it  is  not  so 
insignificant,  and  it  drains  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  and  romantic  regions  of  the 
West,  the  Bad  Lands  of  North  Dakota,  one 
of  the  regions  of  our  country  not  yet  discov- 
ered by  our  tourists  and  our  painters,  like  the 
rugged  Black  Hills  and  Bad  Lands  of  South 
Dakota. 

"  Bad  Lands  "  the  old  traders  and  trap- 
pers called  them,  but  "  Enchanted  Lands  " 
would  be  a  far  more  appropriate  name. 
Through  the  "  Enchanted  Lands  "  of  North 
Dakota,  Wakpa-sheeka,  the  Little  jNIissouri 
winds  its  way  for  more  than  two  hundred 
miles. 

To  tell  of  its  buttes  and  mesas,  its  canyons 
and  plains,  its  bold  cliffs  and  castellated 
rocks,  its  great  lignite  beds,  running  as  broad 
black  seams  in  the  cliffs  along  the  turbid 


230     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

winding  stream,  would  require  another  book. 
Many  of  these  great  beds  of  very  soft  coal 
caught  fire  a  long,  long  time  ago.  In  burn- 
ing, they  baked  the  soft  clay  into  a  hard 
rock,  and  colored  it  with  the  bright  red  of 
burnt  brick,  and  left  great  masses  of  glassy 
slag  scattered  on  hills  and  slopes.  The 
country  looks  as  if  created  in  a  great  catas- 
trophe of  nature,  but  all  the  strange,  wonder- 
ful scenery  was  made  by  the  slow  and  steady 
working  forces  of  rain  and  wind,  of  carving 
creeks  and  rivers,  with  here  and  there  a  touch 
of  fire;  but  of  earthquakes  and  volcanoes 
there  have  been  none. 

It  was  in  the  Enchanted  Lands  of  the 
Little  Missouri  that  the  late  President 
Roosevelt  learned  to  love  the  West  and  the 
life  of  the  cowboy  and  rancher. 

The  Bad  Lands  of  the  Little  Missouri 
was  one  of  the  regions  loved  by  the  wild 
buffaloes,  elk,  deer,  and  mountain  sheep.  It 
was  one  of  the  regions  the  Sioux  loved  and 
were  ready  to  fight  for,  and  Indians  do  love 
their  tribal  home  as  intensely  as  any  white 
man  ever  loved  his  native  land.     No  white 


UNSEEN  DANGER  231 

man  suffers  more  from  homesickness  than 
an  Indian. 

In  a  dry  season,  the  Little  Missouri  is 
only  a  small  creek,  and  it  may  even  rmi  dry 
in  places.  But  when  the  snow  melts  or  the 
rain  falls,  it  quickly  becomes  a  real  river, 
gathering  the  muddy  waters  from  a  thou- 
sand small  creeks  and  gullies,  nearly  all  of 
them  dry  a  few  days  or  hours  after  the  rain, 
and  it  drains  an  area  of  7,500  square  miles, 
only  1,000  square  miles  less  than  the  whole 
State  of  Massachusetts. 

Apparently  a  country  of  this  size  is  large 
enough  for  many  Indians  and  white  men  to 
camp  in  and  roam  over  and  never  meet,  but 
it  must  be  remembered  that  the  Plains  In- 
dians were  horse  Indians,  and  that  in  good 
weather,  mounted  on  their  enduring  ponies, 
a  journey  of  a  hundred  miles  or  two  meant 
nothing  to  them. 

Joe  and  Pete  had  many  times  discussed 
the  probable  location  of  the  winter  camps  of 
the  hostile  Sioux;  and  always  reluctantly 
came  to  the  conclusion  that,  at  least,  one  of 
the  hostile  chiefs,  most  likely  Sitting  Bull, 


232     THE  THREAT  OP  SITTING  BULL 

was  north  of  the  Yellowstone,  probably 
somewhere  on  the  Little  Missouri. 

"  Hang  them  all,  Joe,"  Pete  would  say 
when  he  warmed  up  in  the  discussion, 
"  them  Indians  can't  all  camp  on  the  Powder 
and  the  Rosebud  or  the  Big  Horn.  Thar's 
too  many  of  them.  They  have  to  scatter  to 
find  feed  for  their  ponies.  The  Little 
Missouri  country  is  good  Indian  country. 
Plenty  of  grass,  water,  shelter,  and  cotton- 
woods,  and  plenty  of  game.  I'll  eat  my 
shirt,  Joe,  if  we  can't  see  smoke  from  one 
of  the  high  buttes. 

"  I  don't  fear  them  Indians  as  long  as  thar 
ain't  more  than  five  to  one  against  us,  but  I 
didn't  make  a  bet  to  capture  Sitting  Bull 
and  his  hull  camp.  It  wouldn't  surprise  me, 
if  the  old  devil  had  his  camp  within  five 
miles  of  us.  In  that  case,  we  want  to  pack 
up  and  get  out  before  his  young  bucks  see 
our  smoke." 

"  Maybe  you  are  right,  Pete,"  Joe  had  to 
admit.  "  One  can't  see  any  distance  in  this 
confusion  and  wilderness  of  buttes  and 
cliffs.    I  say  we  scout  for  Indians  to-morrow. 


UNSEEN  DANGER  233 

if  it  doesn't  blow  and  is  not  too  horribly 
cold." 

"  That's  the  game,"  Pete  agreed.  "  Nary 
another  day  should  we  stay  here  without 
learning  if  we  have  any  Sioux  neighbors." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

SCOUTING  FOR  INDIANS 

Next  morning  the  four  campers  left  their 
spare  horses  peeling  cottonwood  bark  and 
started  for  Sentinel  Butte,  the  highest  point 
in  the  present  State  of  North  Dakota  and 
only  about  fifteen  miles  from  their  camp, 
which  had  been  located  near  the  present 
town  of  Medora,  the  romantic  story  of  which 
we  have  not  space  to  tell. 

The  weather  was  no  longer  severely  cold, 
but  both  Don  and  Hank  scouted  on  foot 
from  time  to  time  in  order  to  keep  warm;  for 
a  man  on  horseback  is  always  exposed  to  the 
full  force  of  the  wind. 

Sentinel  Butte,  one  of  many  lone,  steep 

hills   scattered  over  the   great   plain,   was 

clearly  visible  as  soon  as  the  horsemen  had 

climbed  out   of   the  valley   of   the   Little 

Missouri. 

"  Hank,  let's  make  a  run  for  it,"  Don 

234 


SCOUTING  FOR  mDIANS         235 

challenged  his  brother.  "  It  is  only  about 
three  miles  off." 

Pete  and  Joe  had  no  objection  to  the  boys' 
riding  ahead,  but  cautioned  them  not  to  get 
their  horses  heated. 

The  boys  rode  along  at  a  brisk  gait,  but 
there  was  something  strange  about  that 
butte,  for  after  an  hour's  ride,  it  seemed  as 
far  as  ever. 

"  Let  us  wait  for  the  men,"  said  Hank; 
"  we  are  not  getting  any  nearer  to  that 
butte." 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Joe. 
"  Have  you  struck  an  Indian  trail? " 

"  No,"  replied  Hank,  "  we  have  not.  We 
just  stopped  to  ask  Pete  if  he  had  ever  seen 
a  sliding  mountain." 

"  What  do  you  mean? "  Pete  asked,  oflp 
his  guard  for  a  moment. 

"  That  butte,"  Hank  asserted  as  if  talk- 
ing to  Joe,  "  has  been  sliding  west  all  morn- 
ing. It  is  farther  away  now  than  it  was 
when  we  started." 

"  Off  with  ye !  Ye  scamps,"  Pete  broke  in 
now  and  threatened  the  lads  with  his  riding- 


236     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

quirt.  "Off  with  ye!  "he  repeated.  "That 
thar  butte  was  fifteen  miles  off  when  we 
started  for  it,  and  I  reckon  it  is  still  a  little 
better  than  ten  miles  to  windward.  It's  the 
clear  air.  On  the  Pacific  coast  you  can  see 
some  mountains  a  hundred  miles  away.  Off 
with  ye,  and  be  careful  you  don't  freeze  your 
faces ! " 

When  the  lads  were  at  a  safe  distance, 
Don  turned  in  the  saddle:  "  Hey,  Mr.  Pete 
Lawrence!"  he  called,  "do  you  remember 
when  that  mountain  was  a  hole  in  the 
ground? " 

In  answer  Pete  swung  his  quirt  over  his 
head  and  pretended  to  be  whipping  up  his 
pony,  and  the  boys,  with  a  shout,  disappeared 
over  a  ridge. 

In  about  two  hours  more,  they  all  arrived 
at  the  foot  of  the  butte,  where  they  picketed 
their  horses,  although  the  feed  was  very 
poor.  Most  of  the  dead  gTass  was  covered 
by  snow,  while  the  tufts  of  sage-brush  that 
projected  above  the  white  blanket  only 
added  to  the  inhospitable  appearance  of  the 
country. 


SCOUTIXG  FOR  INDIANS         237 

Pete  sat  down  in  the  sun  under  the  lee  of 
a  rock  to  remain  with  the  horses,  while  the 
others  climbed  to  the  flat  top  of  Sentinel 
Butte  about  eight  hundred  feet  above  the 
plain. 

From  this  point  a  wild  wintry  landscape 
was  spread  out  below  them.  It  seemed  to 
the  boys  that  they  could  see  fifty  miles  in 
every  direction.  They  searched  every  val- 
ley and  depression  amongst  the  lower  red- 
topped  buttes  and  every  patch  of  cotton- 
woods,  willow^s,  and  bushes  of  buffalo-berry 
for  signs  of  human  life.  They  made  out, 
through  Joe's  glass,  several  small  bands  of 
buffaloes,  elk,  and  antelopes,  but  no  haze  of 
smoke  was  visible  anywhere.  A  wilderness 
of  red  buttes,  gray  walls,  black  coal  seams, 
and  rugged  hummocks  stretched  away  north 
and  south  along  the  winding  valley  of  the 
Little  Missouri,  while  east  and  west  a  glit- 
tering snow-covered  plam  met  the  horizon. 

"No  signs  of  Indians,"  reported  the 
scouts,  when  they  returned  to  Pete,  who 
seemed  to  have  taken  a  nap  in  the  sunshine. 

"  I  didn't  expect  them  here,"  remarked 


238     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Pete,  "  but  I  reckon  we  shall  see  enough  of 
them  if  we  climb  Bullion  Butte." 

"  Which  one  is  that?  "  asked  Don. 

"  That  hill  over  yonder,  southeast  from 
here,  about  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  away," 
Pete  pointed  out. 

"  What  is  your  weather  forecast,  Pete? " 
asked  Joe,  "Is  it  safe  to  strike  out  for  it 
to-day?" 

"  Clear  to-day  and  to-morrow,  but  more 
storms  next  week,"  predicted  Pete  with 
grave  assurance.  "  Let  us  make  a  good  job 
of  this  scouting,  while  we  are  at  it.  The 
weather  may  not  be  much  warmer  till 
April." 

So  they  struck  off  across  the  comitry  for 
Bullion  Butte,  a  little  more  than  fifteen 
miles  south  of  Medora.  Wrapped  in  their 
big  coats  they  rode  straight  across  the  plain. 
When  they  crossed  Warner  Creek,  they 
stopped  long  enough  to  cut  through  the  ice 
in  a  water-hole  to  refresh  themselves  and 
the  ponies  with  a  good  drink. 

The  horses  travelled  as  if  rather  unwilling 
to  go  farther  away  from  camp. 


SCOUTINa  FOR  INDIANS         239 

"  They  are  getting  tired  and  hungry,"  de- 
clared Pete.  "  Mules  would  have  stood  up 
much  better." 

"  Why  didn't  you  come  on  a  mule? "  re- 
torted Joe.  "  I  would  not  ride  one  of  the 
contrary  critters." 

The  boys  wondered  if  it  was  safe  to  leave 
the  camp  and  the  other  horses  over  night. 

"  No,  it  is  not  very  safe,"  admitted  Joe. 
"  Nothing  is  very  safe  on  these  plains,  but  I 
always  disliked  dividing  a  small  party.  It 
always  means  that  one  will  be  worrying 
about  the  safetv  of  the  other." 

The  boys  were  surprised  at  the  endurance 
of  the  ponies,  which  had  eaten  nothing  but 
the  poorest  kind  of  grass  and  cotton  wood 
bark  ever  since  the  travellers  were  caught  in 
the  storm.  The  little  beasts  seemed  to  un- 
derstand now  that  they  were  not  to  return  to 
the  home  camp  for  the  night,  and  plodded 
along  stubbornly  as  if  they  knew  what  was 
expected  of  them. 

The  boys  were  feeling  more  hungry  than 
tired  and  hoped  that  they  would  not  have  to 
climb  Bullion  Butte  before  supper. 


240     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

The  sun  was  getting  rather  low,  when 
quite  suddenly  the  deep  valley  of  a  creek 
opened  up  before  the  travellers  only  a  mile 
from  the  foot  of  the  great  butte. 

"  Pete,  what  do  you  think  of  this  spot? " 
asked  Joe  as  he  stopped  his  pony  in  a  patch 
of  small  cottonwoods. 

"  I  reckon  it  is  as  good  as  any  other,"  com- 
mented Pete.  "  You  and  the  lads  might  set 
up  camp,  while  I  do  a  little  climbing  and 
scouting." 

In  less  than  an  hour  Pete  was  back.  "All 
is  quiet  on  the  Little  Missouri,  as  far  as  my 
old  eyes  can  make  out  in  the  dusk,"  he  re- 
ported. "  Hand  me  a  piece  of  your  venison 
'  chuck,'  my  stomach  is  calling.  Joe,  that 
fire  looks  mighty  homey." 

While  men  and  boys  were  eating  their 
meat  and  enjoying  copious  draughts  of 
sweet  hot  tea,  the  ponies  were  eagerly  peel- 
ing the  cottonwoods,  which  the  boys  had  cut 
for  them. 

"  Your  Boston  riding-school  horses  would 
not  take  very  much  to  these  cottonwood 
oats,"  remarked  Pete.     "  We  must  give  Joe 


SCOUTING  FOR  INDIANS         241 

credit  for  being  a  good  horse-trader.  The 
Kiowas  surely  taught  him  something  use- 
ful." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Joe  smiling,  "  they  also 
taught  me  to  be  modest.  He-Knocks-His- 
Head  is  not  a  name  to  make  a  man  boastful." 

For  a  while  the  men  kept  the  fire  replen- 
ished, while  thev  chatted  of  the  events  of  the 
da}^  and  speculated  as  to  the  location  of  Sit- 
ting Bull's  camp. 

"  I  hope  the  old  fellow  did  not  locate 
north  of  us,"  Pete  concluded.  *'  In  that 
case  his  young  men  will  be  sure  to  straggle 
up  to  our  camp,  for  the  valley  gets  deeper 
down-stream,  and  the  hunting  is  not  so 
good." 

The  stars  now  twinkled  brilliantly  and  the 
moon  showed  buttes,  crags,  and  cliffs  in  bold 
relief,  while  it  cast  rugged  black  shadows 
into  the  valley.  The  coyotes  howled  and 
yapped  close  by  and  the  gray  wolves  began 
their  wild  song  in  the  distance.  A  buck  that 
had  been  attracted  by  the  camp-fire  snorted 
at  the  intruders  of  his  solitude  and  stamped 
about  in  a  willow  thicket  for  half  an  hour. 


242     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Can't  we  drive  him  out? "  asked  Don. 
''  He  makes  me  feel  as  if  there  were  Indians 
around  us." 

"  Let  him  alone,  boys,"  requested  Joe. 
"  He  will  go  as  soon  as  he  has  satisfied  his 
curiosity.  Picket  the  horses  and  let  us  go  to 
bed.  It  seems  hard  to  restrict  the  poor 
beasts  on  this  winter  range,  but  I  fear  they 
might  start  for  the  home  camp  before  we  are 
ready." 

All  four  of  the  campers  exchanged  their 
boots  for  moccasins  and  leggins,  each  one  se- 
lected a  suitable  spot,  rolled  himself  into  his 
blankets  and  buffalo  robe,  and  slept  Indian 
fashion  with  his  head  under  cover. 

In  the  morning  after  breakfast,  Pete  and 
the  boys  climbed  the  butte,  while  Joe  stayed 
in  camp  with  the  horses.  The  boys  wanted 
Joe  to  come  along,  but  Pete  objected. 

"  We  take  no  chances  on  losing  the 
horses,"  he  protested.  "  I  have  seen  too 
many  Indians  jump  out  of  the  ground,  and 
we  don't  want  to  run  any  foot-races  in  this 
country." 

"  Indians?  "  exclaimed  the  boys.  "  Have 
you  seen  any?  " 


SCOUTING  FOR  INDIANS         243 

"  No  I  haven't,  but  we  take  no  chances. 
One  of  us  stays  with  the  horses." 

The  view  from  Bullion  Butte  was  even 
more  rugged,  with  a  gTcat  number  of  lower 
red-topped  buttes  close  by  than  could  be 
seen  from  Sentinel  Butte.  For  Bullion 
Butte  rises  in  a  typical  Bad  Land  region 
and  close  to  the  Little  Missouri. 

But  Pete  had  no  eyes  for  scenery.  Glass 
in  hand  he  was  scanning  the  winding  river 
toward  the  southwest.  While  the  lads  were 
still  lost  in  wonder  at  the  fantastic  scene,  the 
like  of  which  is  not  found  in  all  the  Eastern 
States,  Pete  called  them  to  come  back  to 
camp  with  him. 

"  Bad  news !  "  he  called  to  Joe.  "  Sitting 
Bull's  camp  is  right  over  there,  about  fifteen 
miles  awav." 

"  Did  you  see  the  camp?  " 

"  No,  not  the  camp,  but  the  smoke  is  plain 
as  day,  and  you  and  I  know  that  means  In- 
dian camp.  They  are  too  close  to  us,  Joe, 
only  thirty  miles.  We  must  strike  out  for 
Bozeman  or  find  a  safer  camp.  When  the 
weather  gets  a  little  warmer  we  are  likely  to 
have  visitors  any  day." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

/ 

THE  MOUNTAIN  ON  FIRE 

The  men  lost  no  time  in  getting  started 
for  the  home  camp,  choosing  the  route  down 
the  valley  of  the  Little  Missouri. 

In  almost  every  sheltered  nook  and  in 
every  patch  of  timber  they  found  both 
white-tail  and  black-tail  deer  or  elk.  Bands 
of  bighorn  sheep  stood  watching  them  from 
the  cliffs  and  flat  tops  of  many  buttes,  while 
small  herds  of  buffaloes  and  antelopes  had 
already  returned  to  their  upland  grazing 
grounds,  where  the  snow  had  not  lodged. 
The  animals  were  so  fearless  that  they  often 
let  the  horsemen  approach  within  a  stone's 
throw. 

"  That  is  a  good  sign,"  declared  Pete. 
"  If  the  Indians  had  been  after  them  they 
would  be  much  wilder." 

Of  bird  life  they  saw  but  little,  except 

sage-hens  and  chattering  magpies;  and  one 

244 


THE  M0U:N^TAIN  on  fire        245 

golden  eagle  was  seen  sailing  in  great  spirals 
down  the  valley.  The  men  did  no  hunting, 
because  they  had  still  plenty  of  meat  at  the 
camp. 

The  horses,  although  they  had  never  been 
over  the  route,  seemed  to  know  where  the 
party  was  going,  and  the  steep  walls  of  the 
valley  sheltered  the  horsemen  so  well  from 
the  wind  that  the  trip  was  very  pleasant. 

Only  one  thing  made  Joe  and  Pete  feel 
uneasy,  and  that  was  the  condition  of  their 
ponies.  The  animals  all  began  to  show 
signs  of  exhaustion  and  hunger. 

"  If  they  were  not  Indian  ponies,"  Joe  de- 
clared, "  we  would  have  a  hard  time  getting 
them  back  to  camp.  This  snow^  has  covered 
up  so  much  of  the  good  grass  that  it  leaves 
them  pretty  poor  picking." 

The  party  reached  the  home  camp  in  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon,  without  seeing  any 
other  Indian  signs,  except  what  they  had 
seen  from  Bullion  Butte. 

"  I  hope,"  said  Pete,  "  it  will  snow  and 
blow  a  little,  before  any  Sioux  hunters  strike 
our  trail." 


246     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

They  found  their  other  horses  about  a 
mile  from  camp,  and  after  cutting  down  a 
few  cottonwoods,  they  turned  all  the  animals 
loose. 

Pete  and  Joe  discussed  all  the  dangers  of 
settling  down  in  a  permanent  winter  camp 
and  of  starting  at  once  for  Bozeman. 

They  agreed  that  for  the  present  they 
could  not  hope  to  complete  the  journey  with- 
out the  loss  of  some  of  their  ponies,  and  with- 
out giving  those  that  held  out  several  days 
of  rest  from  time  to  time,  whenever  they 
should  reach  a  good  and  safe  camping 
ground. 

If  on  this  journey  they  fell  in  with  In- 
dians, they  feared  that  tHey  could  neither 
flee  nor  fight.  Their  horses  would  not  be 
able  to  make  speed  unless  all  equipment  was 
abandoned;  and  if  the  men  made  a  stand, 
they  would  not  be  able  to  dig  any  rifle-pits, 
because  the  gi'ound  was  frozen  hard;  and 
they  were  still  nearly  seven  hundred  miles 
from  Bozeman. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  they  put  up  a  good 
strong  camp  in  some  sheltered  and  secluded 


THE  MOUNTAIN  ON  FIRE        247 

spot  farther  down  the  Little  Missouri,  they 
would  have  little  difficulty  in  bringing  all 
their  animals  through  the  winter.  About 
their  own  food  supply  they  felt  no  uneasi- 
ness. Pete  said  he  could  alone  bring  in 
enough  game  to  feed  a  whole  company. 

As  far  as  the  danger  of  Indian  attack  was 
concerned  it  seemed  entirely  reasonable  to 
expect  that  in  a  broken  country  of  7,000 
square  miles  a  party  of  only  four  men  might 
escape  detection  altogether. 

"  I  have  fooled  them  on  many  a  scouting 
trip,"  Pete  argued,  "  and  I  believe  we  could 
do  it  again.  For  a  small  party  to  vanish 
away,  there  is  no  better  country  than  the 
Bad  Lands  on  the  lower  Little  Missouri." 

If  the  worst  happened  and  they  were  dis- 
covered and  attacked,  they  would  be  able  to 
give  a  good  account  of  themselves. 

"  Give  me  a  good  camp,  well  built  and 
well  placed,  and  it  will  take  a  big  bunch  of 
Sioux  to  prod  us  out,"  Pete  felt  confident. 
"  Our  breech-loaders  and  Colt's  would  send 
them  more  bad  medicine  than  they  would 
care  to  swallow." 


248     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

So  it  was  decided  to  find  a  good  place  and 
stay  in  the  Bad  Lands  of  the  Little  Missouri 
all  winter. 

"  It  is  the  only  safe  thing,"  Joe  explained. 
"After  the  new  grass  is  out,  we  can  travel 
day  or  night  without  fear  of  wearing  out  our 
horses;  and  if  we  get  hard  pressed  we  can 
abandon  everything  except  the  horses  we 
ride  and  our  guns  and  ammunition.  Let  us 
make  a  winter  camp  of  it,  boys.  We  don't 
care  when  we  get  to  Bozeman,  as  long  as  we 
all  get  there  with  our  hair  on.  We'll  have  a 
bully  time  hunting  and  scouting,  sleeping 
and  spinning  yarns,  and  you  fellows  will 
have  time  to  learn  the  Bible  and  Lewis  and 
Clark  by  heart. 

"  Here  is  '  how '  for  our  winter  camp  in 
the  Bad  Lands!" 

For  several  days  the  weather  turned  blus- 
tery, with  high  winds  and  light  snowfalls. 
"Great  weather  for  us!"  exclaimed  Joe. 
"  It  will  keep  the  young  rascals  of  Sitting 
Bull  in  camp  gambling  and  feasting  and 
love-making,  and  when  they  do  come  out, 
they  will  discover  no  signs  of  our  trail.     I 


THE  MOUNTAIN  ON  FIKE        249 

should  like  to  see  their  puzzled  faces  when 
the}^  find  our  old  camp-fires!  They  will 
know  at  once  that  white  men  have  been  there, 
and  they  will  have  big  talks  trying  to  figure 
out  where  the  white  men  came  from  and 
where  they  went." 

Two  days  they  allowed  their  horses  to  rest, 
then  they  broke  camp  to  look  for  a  better 
and  safer  place  farther  down  the  Little  Mis- 
souri, going  northward  from  the  present 
town  of  Medora. 

Of  the  two  lost  horses  they  had  discovered 
no  trace,  so  the  number  of  their  animals  was 
reduced  to  six,  which  were  all  in  fair  condi- 
tion in  spite  of  the  cold  weather  and  scant 
fare. 

They  travelled  in  the  sheltered  valley, 
crossing  the  winding  river  many  times.  The 
scenery  became  even  more  rugged  than  it 
was  near  their  temporary  camp.  The  first 
day  they  rode  along  leisurely  without  trying 
to  find  a  permanent  camp.  In  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon  they  stopped  for  the  night. 

When  supper  had  been  eaten  and  the 
horses  were  all  safely  picketed,  they  sat  for 


250     THE  THKEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

an  hour  around  a  big  red  camp-fire  fed  by 
dry  Cottonwood  logs,  for  they  had  seen  no 
signs  of  Indians  and  both  Joe  and  Pete  felt 
that  there  was  no  need  of  concealing  their 
presence. 

On  the  second  day  they  came  to  the  mouth 
of  a  creek  now  known  as  Beaver  Creek, 
which,  through  a  deep  valley,  enters  the  Lit- 
tle Missouri  from  the  west.  This  side  valley 
looked  like  a  good  hiding-place  to  Pete  and 
Joe  and  they  ascended  it  for  a  few  miles  and 
made  camp  near  a  burning  coal-bed. 

They  set  up  their  tepee,  so  they  would 
have  time  to  build  their  fort  at  leisure. 

In  the  morning  Joe  and  Pete  selected  a 
site  only  a  few  rods  from  the  place  where 
the  lignite  was  slowly  smoldering  under- 
ground, emitting  smoke  and  steam  from 
wide  cracks  in  the  clay  rock  above. 

It  seemed  to  the  boys  a  strange  and  un- 
canny place  for  a  camp. 

"  Won't  the  fire  run  along  and  drive  us 
out?  "  asked  the  lads. 

"  No  danger  of  that,"  Pete  assured  them. 
"  These  underground  fires  do  not  run  like 


THE  MOUNTAIN  ON  FIRE        251 

prairie  fires ;  they  burn  very,  very  slowly.  I 
think  it  has  probably  taken  more  than  ten 
years  for  this  one  acre  of  ground  to  burn 
over." 

"Ten  3^ears?"  exclaimed  Don,  much  as- 
tonished. "  How  long  did  it  take  to  bum 
and  bake  all  those  great  layers  of  red  clay 
which  Joe  says  were  made  by  the  burning  of 
great  coal-beds? " 

"  How  long  that  took? "  Joe  repeated 
Don's  question.  "  Nobody  knows;  probably 
many  thousand  years.  The  Indians  have  no 
tradition  of  the  burning  of  the  great  beds 
that  have  disappeared  between  this  place 
and  Sentinel  Butte,  Bullion  Butte  and  other 
large  and  high  buttes.  The  Indians  believe 
that  the  Bad  Lands  have  always  been  as  they 
are  now,  but  geologists  say  that  the  country 
was  once  very  different.  About  a  thousand 
feet  of  rock  has  been  washed  away  between 
the  great  buttes,  and  thousands  of  square 
miles  of  coal  have  been  burnt." 

Don  Avas  silent  for  a  minute. 

"  Was  the  whole  country,"  he  asked  then, 
"  at  one  time  as  high  as  the  big  buttes? " 


252     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  That  is  what  it  was,"  Joe  explained. 
"  It  was  a  great  rolling  prairie  like  the  coun- 
try around  Fort  Totten." 

"  What  became  of  the  missing  land  and 
the  great  laj^ers  of  rock  and  clay?  " 

"  The  rains  and  creeks  washed  them  into 
the  big  Missouri  and  at  last  into  the  sea." 

"  Why  don't  they  wash  away  the  buttes 
nowf 

"  They  are  washing  them  away,"  Joe 
claimed.  "A  little  of  them  every  spring  and 
with  every  shower.  All  the  fine  mud  in  the 
creeks  and  rivers  from  the  buttes  and  the 
cliffs  is  on  its  way  to  the  sea,  and  some  of  it 
is  being  dropped  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
every  day." 

"  Here,  you  fellows,"  Pete  called  out, 
"  come  and  lend  a  hand!  Joe,  you  can  set 
up  school  when  our  fort  is  done.  I  want  a 
lot  of  bricks  now  and  some  mortar.  We  are 
going  to  build  a  brick  camp,  one  that  can't 
burn  up  when  the  fire  reaches  us. 

"  Joe,  you  had  better  bring  me  a  lot  of 
those  red  rocks,  or  any  kind  of  rock,  and  you 
boys  bring  some  clay  and  mud." 


THE  MOUisTALN  ON  FIKE        253 

"  We  have  nothing  to  carry  it  in,"  said 
Hank,  looking  around  helplessly. 

"  Get  to  work! "  Pete  called  impatiently. 
"  Use  a  piece  of  canvas  and  take  hold  of  the 
corners.  It  is  going  to  be  a  warm  day. 
AVhen  it  blows  we  can't  work.  We  want  to 
get  this  done  before  old  Sitting  Bull  comes 
to  pay  us  a  friendly  call.  Get  to  work,  all 
three  of  you! " 

In  the  evening  a  good  part  of  the  wall 
was  up. 

"  That  is  a  rough-looking  house  we  are 
building,"  exclaimed  Don.  "  The  walls 
look  just  like  a  piece  of  cliff." 

"  That  is  the  way  we  want  them  to  look," 
Pete  agreed,  laughing.  "  We  are  not  build- 
ing for  show." 

The  boys  soon  entered  into  the  fun  of 
building  a  real  fort.  For  several  days  they 
carried  rocks,  clay  and  mud,  or  w^hatever 
Pete  called  for.  The  mud  was  hard  to  get. 
They  had  to  chop  away  the  ice  first  and  then 
dig  out  the  mud  from  the  bottom  of  the 
creek. 

Pete  worked  like  one  who  had  built  shacks 


254     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

and  dugouts  before;  and  the  boys  admitted 
that  he  made  a  good  job  of  it.  He  even 
built  a  rough  fireplace  with  a  chimney  above 
it. 

"  Now  we  will  try  the  draft,"  he  said. 
"  If  our  fireplace  smokes  you  will  have  to 
bring  me  some  more  rocks  for  the  chimney. 
I  learned  this  game  from  a  fellow  soldier, 
who  was  a  bricklayer  before  he  enlisted.  He 
and  I  built  fireplaces  at  Fort  Buford  and 
Fort  Phil  Kearney.  He  was  killed  with 
Fetterman." 

The  chimney  worked  so  well  that  the  four 
builders  cooked  their  supper  at  the  fireplace. 
Before  it  grew  dark  Joe  brought  some  Cot- 
tonwood stumps,  and  Pete  told  stories  of 
Fort  Phil  Kearney,  while  the  hot  red  fire 
baked  the  clay  and  mud  in  the  chimney,  and 
when  the  stumps  were  burnt  up  the  campers 
sought  their  beds  in  the  tepee. 

The  next  problem  was  to  provide  their 
fort  with  a  roof  and  a  door;  and  the  boys 
marvelled  again  at  the  resourcefulness  of  the 
two  old  soldiers. 

From  a  projecting  layer  of  slanting  hard 


THE  MOUNTAIN  ON  FIRE        255 

rock  in  the  cliff  they  laid  slanting  poles  to 
the  wall  of  the  cabin.  The  poles  they  cov- 
ered with  a  layer  of  willow  brush,  and  over 
the  brush  they  stretched  the  two  deer  hides 
they  had  brought  along  and  a  piece  of  old 
canvas.  Then  they  covered  the  whole  with 
earth  and  sod,  which  they  brought  from  a 
warm  south-facing  hillside. 

"In  a  few  days,"  chuckled  Pete,  "we 
shall  move  into  our  house!  This  tepee  life 
is  all  right  for  an  Injun,  but  it  warn't  ever 
meant  for  a  white  man." 

No  boys  ever  enjoyed  more  the  building 
of  their  shacks, — and  what  strange  shacks 
boys  do  build! — than  these  boys  and  men  en- 
joyed building  their  winter  fort  in  the  Bad 
Lands,  and  no  wild  animal  ever  hid  his  den 
more  effectively. 

"A  pretty  good  job  you  made  of  it,"  Joe 
granted  as  the  four  sat  and  looked  at  their 
fort  from  a  few  hundred  yards  away,  "  but 
the  chimney  will  give  us  away." 

"I'U  fix  that,"  declared  Pete.  "You 
three  run  and  bring  me  some  more  rocks,  the 
roughest  ones  you  can  find." 


256     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

When  Pete  had  finished  pilmg  those 
around  the  chhnney  top,  both  Joe  and  the 
boys  had  to  admit  that  the  shack  and  its  roof 
looked  so  much  like  a  natural  part  of  the 
cliff  that  no  one  could  tell  it  was  a  campers' 
shack  or  fort  till  he  came  right  up  to  it. 

For  the  door,  Pete  resorted  to  the  device 
of  the  Indians  by  fastening  a  tanned  buffalo 
skin  in  such  a  way  that  it  neatly  closed  the 
entrance.  This  door  was  partly  hidden 
from  view  by  a  gnarly  red  cedar,  against  the 
trunk  of  which  they  piled  a  few  rocks  to 
make  the  concealment  complete. 

"  You  forgot  to  put  in  a  Avindow,"  Hank 
teased  the  builder,  ''  and  the  smoke  from  the 
chimney  will  give  us  away." 

"  You  go  and  camp  in  the  snow  if  you 
don't  like  my  shack,"  Pete  replied  curtly. 
"  We  don't  need  a  window.  The  open  door 
or  the  fire  will  give  us  plenty  of  light. 

"  Come  down  with  me  to  the  creek  and  I'll 
show  you  something  about  the  smoke. 

"  There,"  Pete  pointed  out  when  the  four 
campers  had  reached  the  creek,  "  none  of 
you  could  tell,  if  you  didn't  know  it,  that  oiu' 


THE  MOUNTAIN  ON  FIBE        257 

chimney  smoke  does  not  come  out  of  the 
burning  cliff.  I  fixed  the  top  so  that  the 
smoke  sort  of  has  to  spread  out." 

Joe  and  the  boys  had  to  admit  that  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  whole  fort  was  most  decep- 
tive. 

'^I  don't  believe,"  said  Pete,  "  any  Indians 
would  go  near  this  burning  coal-bed;  they 
are  too  superstitious  about  everything  un- 
usual." 

The  horses  found  in  the  sheltered  valley  of 
the  creek  a  good  winter  pasture;  and  for 
emergencies,  quite  a  supply  of  cottonwoods 
was  available. 

One  or  two  of  the  party  went  every  day 
to  look  at  the  horses,  but  the  animals  were 
doing  well  and  showed  no  inclination  to  leave 
the  little  sheltered  valley. 

When  everything  in  Pete's  shack  was 
ready,  the  campers  took  down  their  tepee 
and  cached  their  supplies  under  some  canvas 
and  buffalo  skins  behind  their  fort. 

A  fort  indeed  they  had  built.  Pete  had 
not  forgotten  to  put  in  a  number  of  port- 
holes, closed  now  with  pieces  of  buckskin. 


258     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

which,  however,  could  be  pulled  out  in  a 
second. 

Wood  for  the  fireplace  was  fairly  abun- 
dant, both  Cottonwood  and  red  cedar,  but 
their  main  supply  for  keeping  their  den 
warm  was  the  lignite,  which  the  boys  simply 
had  to  pick  up  and  carry  inside. 

Two  raised  sleeping-places,  one  for  the 
bovs  and  one  for  the  men,  was  all  the  inside 
"  fixings  "  Pete  put  in.  The  bunks,  as  the 
boys  called  them,  also  served  as  seats,  and  a 
neatly  tanned  buckskin  spread  on  the  ground 
served  as  table  and  table-cloth. 

Cactus  Pete  uttered  a  grunt  of  satisfac- 
tion when  he  stretched  himself  on  the  com- 
fortable bunk  after  supper  the  first  evening. 

"  The  best  bed  I  ever  lay  on;  beats  them 
mattress  beds  in  the  big  Planters  Hotel  in 
St.  Louis,"  he  vowed.  "  The  Planters  is 
sure  a  fine  place,  but  I'll  be  dinged  if  I 
wouldn't  rather  camp  here  in  our  den  in 
these  here  Bad  Lands.  Old  St.  Louis  and 
Boston  beat  us  on  fixings,  but  they  can't 
touch  us  on  scenery.  These  Bad  Lands  are 
sure  a  bewitched-looking  country." 


THE  MOUNTAIN  ON  FIEE        259 

"  Not  bewitched,"  Joe  corrected  him, 
"  *  enchanted  '  is  the  word." 

"  Wall,  bewitched  or  enchanted,  it's  sure 
a  strange  country,"  Pete  continued. 
"  Looks  to  me  as  if  Old  Harry  tried  to  bust 
up  the  hull  earth  for  the  Lord  and  come 
well-nigh  doing  it." 

"  Pete,  you  have  lived  too  long  with  the 
Indians,"  Joe  bantered  him.  "  Old  Harry 
had  nothing  to  do  with  making  these  En- 
chanted Lands.  The  Lord  carved  them  out 
Himself  with  rains  and  streams." 

"Did  He  light  the  coal-beds,  too?" 
queried  Pete  skeptically.  "  It  looks  to  me 
as  if  Old  Harry  tried  pretty  hard  to  stake 
out  a  claim  here. 

"Wall,  I  suppose  these  college  fellows 
know  what  they  are  talking  about,  but  how 
are  coal-beds  set  on  fire?  " 

"  By  lightning,  by  man,  and  by  sponta- 
neous combustion." 

"  Spontaneous  what? " 

"  Spontaneous  combustion.  They  just 
begin  to  burn  of  themselves,  that's  what  it 
means." 


260    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Joe,  you  are  a  bigger  liar  than  I  ever 
hope  to  be.  Thar  ain't  no  such  thing.  You 
needn't  try  to  fool  an  old  man  with  your 
book  learning." 

"  Yes,  there  is,  Pete,"  Hank  ventured  to 
come  in.  "  When  Uncle  Reuben's  machine- 
shop  caught  fire,  the  insurance  men  said  it 
was  a  case  of  spontaneous  combustion.  A 
careless  workman  had  thrown  a  pile  of  oiled 
rags  and  wipings  into  a  corner  and  they  had 
started  to  burn  of  their  own  accord." 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  Pete  pro- 
tested. "  You  fellows  are  trying  to  get  even 
with  me. 

"  Wall,  I  reckon  I  can  hold  my  own  when 
it  comes  to  telling  stories,  but  if  any  man 
ever  starts  to  hum  a  reveille  in  this  fort,  I 
shall  give  him  a  dose  of  spontaneous  tum- 
bling down  the  bank.  These  blarney  rev- 
eilles have  haunted  me  for  fourteen  years 
and  I  am  going  to  make  up  lost  sleep  in  this 
camp." 

That  first  night,  however,  Pete  did  not 
make  up  much  sleep.  He  had  just  finished 
a  story  about  Fort  Phil  Kearney,  when  there 


THE  MOUNTAIN  ON  FIRE        261 

was  a  dull  crash  and  a  cannon-like  explosion 
outside.  At  the  same  time  a  violent  tremor 
went  through  the  cliff,  and  the  rock  cabin 
was  shaken  so  violently  that  some  of  Pete's 
mortar  fell  out  of  the  joints. 

"  Indians!  "  called  Don,  jumping  up  from 
his  bunk. 

"Don,  you're  plumb  foolish!"  Hank 
cried.  "  Indians  can't  make  the  rocks  trem- 
ble.    It's  an  earthquake." 

"  The  mountain  is  on  fire,  the  moimtain  is 
burning  up!"  the  lads  called,  when  they 
rushed  out  through  the  skin  door. 

The  mountain  was  indeed  on  fire.  Where, 
thus  far,  only  smoke  and  steam  had  issued, 
blue  and  red  flames  flickered  out  of  a  long 
crevice,  which  had  just  formed  in  the  bed  of 
clay  overlying  the  burning  coal-bed. 

"  There  is  your  earthquake,"  Joe  pointed 
out  as  the  four  astonished  campers  stood 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  weird  flickering 
flames.  "A  large  piece  of  burnt  clay  rock 
has  just  caved  in,  because  the  lignite  had 
burnt  out  from  under  it.  Heated  gases 
caused   the    explosion,    and   now   they   are 


262     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

burning  as  they  come  out  of  the  new 
crevice." 

"  The  all-firedest  strange  thing  I  ever 
saw!  "  exclaimed  Pete.  "  It's  Old  Harry's 
work,  I  say." 

But  the  boys  caught  Joe's  explanation. 
"  It's  a  kind  of  Bad  Lands  gas-works,"  re- 
marked Hank.  "  We  once  visited  the  Bos- 
ton Gas-Works  where  they  make  gas  by 
roasting  soft  coal  in  long  ovens." 

In  an  hour  the  blue  and  red  flames  died 
away  and  the  campers  returned  to  their 
cabin. 

"  Wall,  you  needn't  call  me,  boys,"  re- 
marked Pete  as  he  stretched  himself  under 
the  blankets,  "  unless  old  Sitting  Bull  him- 
self wants  to  see  me.  This  stone-mason's 
job  is  pretty  hard  work  for  an  old  soldier." 


CHAPTER  XXy 

DANGEROUS  NEIGHBORS 

The  den,  that  was  the  name  finally  ap- 
plied to  Pete's  camp,  answered  every  expec- 
tation. 

It  blended  so  perfectly  with  the  natural 
layers  of  rock,  clay,  and  lignite  that  it  looked 
to  the  boys  like  a  big  swallow's  nest  stuck  to 
the  cliff.  It  was  roomy,  and,  best  of  all, 
when  the  blizzards  roared  across  the  Bad 
Lands  and  the  temperature  fell  to  forty  be- 
low zero,  it  was  a  warm  and  cozy  den,  and 
the  blankets  did  not  become  covered  with 
powdered  snow. 

The  absence  of  a  window  the  campers  felt 

only  on  those  days  when  it  was  too  stormy  or 

too  cold  to  be  outside.     In  fair  weather  the 

horses  had  to  be  looked  after,  game  had  to  be 

found  and  packed  to  camp;  and  at  all  times, 

the  campers  spent  as  much  time  sleeping  as 

nature  would  permit. 

263 


264    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

But  even  on  cold  and  stormy  days  Joe  and 
Pete  overcame  the  lack  of  windows  and 
candles.  They  always  kept  on  hand  a  sup- 
ply of  split  cedar,  which  burnt  with  a  bright 
flame,  so  that  the  boys  lay  for  hours  on  their 
buffalo  robes  in  front  of  the  fireplace  read- 
ing the  great  story  of  Lewis  and  Clark  and 
those  stories  in  the  Good  Book  which  appeal 
most  to  young  people  and  of  which  boys  and 
girls  nowadays  have  altogether  too  little 
knowledge. 

"  The  journey  of  the  Israelites  through 
the  desert  must  have  been  a  good  deal  like  a 
journey  through  the  Bad  Lands,"  observed 
Joe. 

"  Yes,  like  going  through  the  sage-brush 
country,"  added  Pete,  "  only  worse.  You 
never  find  any  reference  to  boys  fishing  or 
even  to  crossing  rivers.  So  I  reckon  that 
country  is  a  real  desert,  all  right,  with  no 
game  and  almost  no  water." 

Lewis  and  Clark's  journal  gave  rise  to 
endless  discussions.  Pete  had  seen  and 
camped  on  many  of  the  spots  mentioned  in 
the  famous  diary. 


DA:NGEE0US  KEIGHBORS        2G5 

There  had  not  been  very  much  change  in 
the  sixty  years  elapsed  since  the  time  of  the 
two  great  explorers,  but  Pete  and  Joe 
a^eed  that  the  end  of  the  old  days  was  at 
hand. 

"  Something  has  got  to  happen  in  the 
Sioux  country  this  next  summer,"  asserted 
Joe.  "  White  people  either  have  to  keep 
out  of  the  country  between  the  Platte  and 
the  Yellowstone,  or  the  Sioux  will  all  have 
to  move  on  reservations  and  travel  the  *  white 
man's  road.'  If  white  men  are  allowed  in 
the  Indian  country  the  buffaloes  will  be 
killed  off,  and  that  will  mean  the  end  of 
the  'red  man's  road';  for  the  wild  life 
of  the  Plains  Indians  is  impossible  with- 
out the  buffalo.  And  mark  my  words, 
the  Sioux  are  going  to  put  up  a  desperate 
fight  to  keep  travelling  the  'red  man's 
road.'  " 

"  Right  you  are,"  assented  Pete.  "  Cus- 
ter will  have  his  hands  full  with  the  Sioux. 
He  will  never  catch  Sitting  Bull  and  Crazy 
Horse  the  way  he  caught  Black  Kettle ;  and 
white  soldiers  can  no  more  make  a  winter 


266     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

camj)aign  in  this  northern  country  than  In- 
dians can  do  it. 

"  I  wish  we  knew  what  has  happened  since 
we  left  Fort  Totten." 

Although  the  campers  now  thought  them- 
selves quite  safe  from  Indians,  they  did  not 
neglect  precaution.  They  never  entered  the 
valley  of  the  Little  Missouri  directly  from 
the  bottom  of  their  own  creek,  but  always  by 
a  detour  to  west  and  north ;  and  in  the  direc- 
tion from  which  they  had  come,  they  never 
hunted  at  all. 

Joe  and  Pete  had  learned  in  the  army  that 
men  must  be  kept  busy  to  be  content,  and 
they  kept  their  two  boys  busy  with  hunting, 
tending  the  ponies,  cutting  wood,  and  other 
camp  duties. 

It  was,  of  course,  necessary  to  be  ex- 
tremely saving  with  ammunition,  because 
their  journey  was  to  last  so  much  longer 
than  they  had  at  first  planned.  No  man 
was  allowed  to  fire  at  small  game,  and  Joe 
would  not  permit  the  lads  to  hunt  deer  and 
wild  sheep  with  bows  and  arrows. 

"  You  boys  could  not  kill  the  animal  with 


DANGEROUS  ISIEIGHBORS        267 

an  arrow,"  he  said,  "  and  it  would  be  cruelty 
to  allow  a  wounded  animal  to  escape." 

The  boys,  however,  became  quite  skilful 
in  using  their  Indian  weapons  on  jack-rab- 
bits and  sage-hens,  and  this  small  game 
added  a  welcome  variety  to  the  larder  of  the 
camp. 

Almost  before  the  campers  realized  it, 
Christmas  and  New  Year  had  passed,  and 
the  short  days  grew  a  little  longer,  although 
the  weather  continued  to  grow  colder,  so  that 
Joe  and  his  boys  appreciated  fully  Pete's 
good  work  of  building  a  comfortable  den. 

The  horses  fared  remarkably  well,  because 
the  narrow  valley  with  considerable  tree 
growth  afforded  them  not  only  good  feeding, 
but  good  shelter  at  all  times. 

When  the  lads  saw  how  well  the  horses 
did,  they  regretted  that  they  had  not  started 
for  Bozeman  in  December.  "  We  could  all 
have  been  with  Father  for  Christmas,"  they 
suggested. 

"  Yes,  we  might,"  Pete  admitted.  "  But 
most  likely  we  would  have  hobbled  around 
on  crutches  with  our  feet  frozen.     Believe 


268     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

me,  lads,  an  old  soldier  knows  what  it  means 
to  have  hands  and  feet  frozen.  A  man  is 
foolish  to  make  a  long  journey  across  the 
plains  in  winter,  if  he  does  not  have  to," 

When,  a  few  days  later,  another  snow- 
storm passed  over  the  country,  and  the 
weather  grew  so  bad  that  for  two  days  no- 
body could  go  to  look  after  the  horses,  the 
boys  were  glad  they  were  not  travelling  or 
camping  in  the  open. 

By  the  first  of  April  the  snow  had  disap- 
peared, except  in  places  where  the  sun  did 
not  strike  it,  and  now  Joe  and  Pete  looked 
every  day  for  signs  of  Indians,  and  they  did 
not  have  to  look  many  days  before  they  dis- 
covered what  they  did  not  wish  to  discover. 

A  few  miles  up  the  valley  of  the  Little 
Missouri  they  saw  the  smoke  of  a  camp-fire, 
and  the  very  next  day  a  party  of  seven 
young  Indian  hunters  made  their  camp  near 
the  mouth  of  the  creek. 

Joe  and  Pete  felt  sure  that  these  Sioux 
had  found,  at  least,  two  of  the  camps  of  the 
white  men.  Would  they  pass  farther  down 
the  valley  of  Wakpa-sheeka?    Would  they 


DANGEROUS  KEIGHBORS         269 

look  for  the  white  men  iii  the  canyon  of  the 
creek,  or  would  they  soon  return  to  their 
main  camp? 

The  two  men  discussed  these  questions 
with  much  anxiety.  If  the  Sioux  hunted 
farther  down  the  valley,  they  would  have  to 
return  the  same  way,  because  the  walls  of  the 
valley  below  the  mouth  of  Beaver  Creek  are 
so  high  and  steep  that  there  are  only  verj^ 
few  places  where  a  man  on  horseback  can 
reach  the  plain  above. 

The  four  whites  felt  as  if  they  were  held 
in  a  state  of  siege.  They  did  not  dare  to  go 
hunting,  for  if  they  were  seen  or  heard,  the 
Indians  would  be  upon  them. 

"  What  do  you  say,  Joe,"  asked  Pete,  "  if 
we  crawled  up  on  them  and  blew  them  all 
into  Kingdom  Come?  They  wouldn't  have 
shown  us  any  mercy  if  they  had  seen  us 
first." 

But  Joe  would  not  listen  to  any  such  plan. 

"  They  have  a  right,"  he  held,  "  to  hunt  in 
their  own  country.  It  would  be  plain  mur- 
der if  we  attacked  them.  If  thev  attack  us, 
we  have  a  right  to  defend  ourselves." 


270     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTI:NG  BULL 

"Wall,  all  right,  Joe/'  growled  Pete. 
"  If  you  had  been  with  us  at  Fort  Phil  Kear- 
ney, you  would  not  be  quite  so  squeamish. 
Perhaps  we  had  better  go  and  smoke  the 
peace  pipe  with  them.  I  wager  they  would 
also  like  to  trade  ponies  with  us." 

"  I'll  smoke  my  own  peace  pipe  right  here 
in  this  den,"  retorted  Joe.  "  You  can  go 
and  see  if  any  of  your  friends  from  Fort 
Phil  Kearney  are  in  their  camp." 

But  the  next  day  the  Indians  made  a  move 
which  put  an  end  to  Pete's  and  Joe's  debate. 
The  Sioux  hunters  came  up  the  creek  and 
sat  down  as  if  for  a  council,  in  plain  sight, 
and  almost  within  rifle  range  of  the  stone 
fort. 

Fortunately  neither  the  campers  nor  their 
horses  had  ever  gone  down  the  creek  since 
the  camp  had  been  built,  and  Pete  had  in- 
sisted that  no  clothing,  or  anything  else  that 
might  betray  their  presence,  was  ever  left 
outside  the  rock  den. 

"  Get  your  guns  ready  and  pull  the  rags 
out  of  the  loopholes!"  ordered  Joe.  "If 
they  discover  us  and  make  an  attack,  we 


DANGEROUS  NEIGHBORS        271 

have  to  go  after  them  hard.  And  we  can't 
let  them  pass  our  fort  up  the  canyon ;  for  if 
we  do,  they  will  surely  steal  every  one  of  our 
horses." 

"  Right  you  are,  Joe,"  Pete  seconded  his 
friend.  "  If  they  discover  us,  or  try  to  pass 
our  fort,  not  one  of  them  must  ever  return  to 
Sitting  Bull's  camp." 

The  Indians  were  apparently  also  having 
a  heated  discussion.  One  man  pointed  up 
the  canyon  several  times. 

"  He  is  telling  them  that  the  white  men 
have  gone  that  way,"  Don  declared  with  a 
tremor  in  his  voice. 

"  Hank,  keep  that  coal  fire  going,"  ad- 
monished Pete.  "  If  our  smoke  changes  too 
much,  my  ruse  might  fail  to  work." 

"  If  thev  were  white  men,"  Joe  felt  sure, 
"  they  would  come  up  to  warm  themselves 
at  the  burning  coal-bed  or  at  least  to  take  a 
look  at  it.  I  am  right  glad  that  Indians  are 
superstitious." 

Now  the  Indians  arose  and  came  toward 
the  creek.  Now  they  stopped  and  looked  at 
the  sm.oldering  coal-bed  and  at  the  smoke 


272     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

rising  out  of  Pete's  concealed  chimney.  The 
man,  who  seemed  to  be  the  leader,  now 
seemed  to  point  directly  at  the  fort. 

The  four  white  campers  held  their  breath 
and  each  man  seized  his  rifle. 

"By  Jove,  they're  coming!"  whispered 
Pete  and  placed  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle  in  a 
loophole  and  took  careful  aim  at  the  leader. 
"  Each  one  of  you  cover  your  man,"  he 
added. 

"Wait,  Pete,  don't  fire!"  pleaded  Joe; 
but  he  and  the  boys  each  covered  an  Indian. 
"  Look,"  continued  Joe,  "  three  of  them  are 
mere  boys,  not  more  than  fourteen  years  old. 
Don't  fire  at  them !  " 

"  Hang  'em  all,"  whispered  Pete  angrily. 
"  Them  Indian  boys  and  the  squaws  are  the 
worst  devils  when  it  comes  to  torturing  cap- 
tives to  death.  They  are  all  brutes.  If 
they  approach  another  rod,  down  they  come ! 
All  of  them!" 

Again  the  Indians  stopped  and  looked  for 
a  minute  up  the  canyon  and  directly  at  the 
fort,  then  they  turned  and  walked  slowly 
down  the  creek. 


DANGEROUS  NEIGHBORS        273 

"  Thank  Heaven,"  murmured  Joe,  "  I 
believe  they  are  going." 

"  Hang  the  red  rascals !  "  muttered  Pete. 
"  I  am  afraid  they  think  they  have  smelled 
white  men."  And  he  crawled  carefully  out 
of  the  den  like  a  wolf  and  peered  down  the 
creek  from  behind  the  roots  and  rocks  at  the 
foot  of  the  old  cedar. 

In  a  little  while  he  came  back.  "  Blazed 
I  am!  "  he  growled,  "  they  are  going!  But 
I  don't  trust  them.  These  red  heathen 
are  pretty  foxy.  But  I  can't  stand  it 
much  longer.  If  they  don't  get  out  of  here 
pretty  soon  we  shall  have  to  blow  their 
heads  off.  They  are  too  dangerous  as  neigh- 
bors." 

That  evening  there  was  no  laughter  and 
no  loud  talking  in  the  white  men's  den.  The 
boys  were  asked  to  keep  the  fire  going,  but 
Pete  hung  a  buffalo  robe  in  front  of  the  fire- 
place so  that  no  ray  of  light  would  be  visible 
outside. 

After  dark  Pete  put  on  his  cap  and  moc- 
casins, took  his  rifle  and  cartridge  belt  and 
slipped  out  of  the  den. 


274    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Pete,  you  aren't  going  to  do  anything 
heathenish? "  asked  Joe. 

"  I  am  just  going  to  do  a  little  quiet  scout- 
ing on  my  friends,"  Pete  answered  with  a 
grin.  "  Don't  lock  me  out.  I  shall  be  back 
at  bedtime." 

In  two  hours  Pete  returned.  His  face 
looked  dark  and  there  was  a  gleam  in  his 
gray  eyes. 

"  The  whole  gang  is  sitting  around  a 
camp-fire,"  he  reported.  "  If  you  fellows 
had  been  with  me,  we  could  have  picked  off 
every  man  of  them.  It  was  the  best  chance 
I  ever  had  at  any  Indians.  They  think 
they  are  safe,  but  they  have  their  horses 
picketed  near  the  tepee.  How  my  fin- 
gers itched  to  even  up  our  Fort  Kearney 
score ! " 

"  Pete,  you  stay  in  the  den  after  this," 
said  Joe.  "  I  wish  we  had  left  you  at  Fort 
Totten." 

For  a  short  time  Pete  was  silent  and 
seemed  to  be  lost  in  deep  thought. 

"  I'll  tell  you  something,"  he  began  then. 
"  This  is  getting  to  be  a  terribly  dangerous 


It  was  the  best  chance  I  ever  had  at  ant  Indians." 
Page  274. 


DANGEROUS  NEIGHBORS        275 

camp.  That  bunch  has  been  here  a  week, 
and  it  is  only  a  question  of  time  when  they 
will  stumble  on  to  our  den,  or  our  horses. 
We  can't  move  while  they  are  here,  so  they 
will  have  to  move.  I'll  give  them  one  more 
day  to  get  out.  If  they  don't,  they  are  dead 
Indians!     That's  my  plan. 

"  Joe,  if  you  had  been  with  us  in  the 
wagon-boxes,  or  had  seen  the  bodies  of  Fet- 
terman's  troop,  you  wouldn't  be  quite  so 
squeamish.  I  swear,  if  they  had  caught  us, 
the  way  I  had  them,  thar  wouldn't  be  a  soul 
of  us  alive! 

"  Every  man  sleeps  with  his  boots  on  to- 
night, and  this  old  boy  is  going  to  do  a  little 
guard  duty." 

The  boys  wanted  to  know  why  Indians 
never  made  attacks  at  night. 

"Another  case  of  superstition,"  explained 
Pete.  "  They  think  if  a  man  is  killed  in  the 
dark  he  has  to  live  in  the  dark  in  the  other 
world. 

"  They  will  sneak  into  a  camp  and  steal 
horses,  but  they  will  not  fight  in  the  dark, 
unless  they  are  cornered.     And  lucky  it  is 


276     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

for  soldiers  and  white  men  that  they  have 
this  superstition." 

Don  decided  that  he  would  also  stay 
awake,  but  toward  midnight  he  dropped  off 
in  spite  of  his  efforts. 

The  night  was  mild  and  Pete,  wrapped  in 
his  buffalo  robe,  spent  the  greater  part  of  it 
crouching  behind  the  old  cedar  in  front  of 
the  den. 

"  If  any  Indian  comes  crawling  around 
here,  I'll  know  it,"  he  declared. 

At  daylight  he  took  his  rifle  and  pistols 
and  scouted  carefully  down  the  creek. 

When  he  returned  he  was  rather  noisy. 

"  Get  up,  you  rock-rats! "  he  called.  "  If 
you  want  to  bid  our  beloved  neighbors  good- 
bye, you  have  to  hurry.  They  are  packing 
up.  And  it's  mighty  lucky  for  them  that 
they  are  going!" 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  MESSENGERS 

An  hour  later  the  Sioux  camp  was  de- 
serted, only  the  tepee-poles  being  left  stand- 
ing. 

"  Seven  men  in  one  tepee,"  said  Hank; 
"  must  have  made  pretty  crowded  quarters." 

"  Not  for  Indians,"  explained  Pete. 
*'  They  seem  to  like  being  crowded,  espe- 
cially in  winter.  The  Plains  Indians  seldom 
sleep  in  the  open.  Even  in  summer  they 
build  some  kind  of  shelter,  and  a  dozen  men 
will  crowd  into  a  brush  wickiup  that  would 
be  too  small  for  half  that  many  white  men." 

The  lads  understood  now  why  Joe  and 

Pete  had  never  gone  do^vn  the  creek  from 

their  fort.     If  they  had  done  so  the  Indians 

would  have  found  the  trail  to  the  fort  at 

once.     As  it  was  they  had  been  outwitted  by 

a  very  simple  precaution.     Both  Joe  and 

277 


278     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Pete  had  no  doubt  that  the  Sioux  had  come 
down  the  valley  in  search  of  the  white  men, 
whose  camp-sites  they  had  discovered. 
V  "  Let  us  follow  them  now  and  give  them  a 
good  scare,"  suggested  Don.  "  They  had 
us  scared  for  a  week." 

"  Joe,"  asked  Pete,  "  what  do  you  think  of 
it?  Let  us  sneak  up  on  them  and  steal  their 
ponies  and  make  them  foot  it  back  to  Sitting 
Bull's  camp.  The  Sioux  owe  me  for  a  horse 
and  a  good  mule,  which  they  stole  at  Fort 
Phil  Kearney,  and  this  is  the  first  chance  I 
have  had  to  even  up  the  score." 

"  Pete,"  Joe  replied,  "  you  are  the  worst 
kid  in  camp.  Are  you  getting  so  lonesome 
that  you  want  to  set  a  bunch  of  Sioux  on 
your  own  trail?  We  shall  most  likely  see 
enough  Indians  before  we  reach  Bozeman. 
Thank  the  Lord  that  these  did  not  visit  us." 

"  Let  us  follow  them,  anyhow,"  pleaded 
the  boys,  whose  love  of  adventure  was  stirred 
at  the  sight  of  the  camp  and  the  pony  trail. 
"  It  would  be  fun  to  be  really  trailing  In- 
dians. We  ought  to  learn  more  about  In- 
dians before  we  leave  this  fort.     We  will  go 


THE  IVIESSENGERS  279 

and  get  the  ponies.  It's  a  fine  day  for  trail- 
ing." 

But  now  Pete  had  recovered  his  plains- 
man's caution.  "  No,  boys,"  he  warned  the 
impetuous  lads,  "  don't  be  in  a  hurry.  If 
we  start  right  a^vay  their  rear  scouts  might 
see  us,  and  we  should  spoil  the  whole  winter's 
game.  We  don't  really  want  to  see  them 
again,  and  Joe  is  right,  we  sure  don't  want 
them  to  see  us,  but  I  should  like  to  know  why 
they  came  so  far  down  the  river?  " 

"  But  how  can  you  find  out  without  ask- 
ing them? "  Don  wondered. 

"  Well,  if  I'm  as  good  a  scout  as  I  used  to 
be,  I  think  I  could  find  out,"  asserted  Pete. 
"  If  Joe  is  willing,  we  shall  just  stay  in  camp 
to-day,  cut  wood,  carry  in  a  lot  of  coal,  and 
to-morrow  we  do  a  little  trailing.  Let  them 
get  a  good  start  so  we  don't  have  to  worry 
about  running  into  them." 

Joe  was  willing,  and  the  next  morning 
two  happy  boys  once  more  jumped  into  the 
saddle  and  with  their  two  friends  took  up 
the  trail. 

"  Now,  boys,"  Joe  told  them,  "  we  are  out 


280     THE  THKEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

for  a  lark,  but  we  may  get  into  serious  trouble 
if  we  are  not  careful.  There  is  to  be  no  shoot- 
ing and  shouting  and  no  loud  talk.  A  good 
scout  is  never  careless.  You  stay  right  with 
us,  unless  we  ask  you  to  ride  ahead.  Take 
the  lead  now  and  see  that  you  don't  lose  the 
trail,  and  don't  you  let  the  Indians  see  you 
first." 

The  boys  found  fheir  task  much  more  diffi- 
cult than  they  had  anticipated.  The  In- 
dians, it  seemed,  had  always  picked  out  the 
hardest  ground,  and  had  generally  followed 
the  meanderings  of  the  river,  but  in  several 
places  they  had  crossed  the  river. 

Wherever  the  trail  turned  a  cliff,  Joe 
asked  one  of  the  boys  to  dismount  and  scout 
ahead  on  foot,  and  he  made  them  approach 
the  mouth  of  every  creek,  every  side  canyon 
and  every  patch  of  timber  with  great  cau- 
tion. 

By  noon  they  had  made  about  ten  miles 
and  halted  in  the  pleasant  shade  of  some  cot- 
tonwoods,  still  leafless,  of  course. 

"  Well,  scouts,"  asked  Joe,  "  what  did  you 
learn  about  those  Indians?  " 


THE  MESSENGERS  281 

"  They  made  an  awfully  crooked  trail," 
said  Don. 

"  They  rode  at  a  walk,"  added  Hank, 
"  and  sometimes  they  stopped  but  they  did 
not  dismount." 

"  Is  that  all  you  learned?  "  inquired  Pete. 
"  Did  they  do  any  hunting?  " 

"  No,  they  did  not,"  Hank  declared. 

"  Did  they  see  any  game?  "  asked  Pete. 

"  Yes,  they  did,"  Don  answered  eagerly, 
"  They  saw  elk.  There  were  fresh  tracks  in 
one  of  the  groves.  I  saw  a  bullet  blaze  on  a 
tree,  and  all  the  elk  ran  when  they  were 
fired  at." 

"  Is  that  all  you  know? " 

"  That  is  all  we  learned,"  both  boys  ad- 
mitted. 

"  Then  you  are  pretty  poor  scouts. 
Didn't  you  learn  what  was  in  their 
mind? " 

"  How  can  we  tell  what  was  in  their 
mind? "  Don  asked,  thinking  Pete  was  try- 
ing to  tease  them.  "  We  did  not  even  see 
them." 

"  Joe  and  I  know,"  Pete  claimed. 


282     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Then  you  spied  them  through  the  glass 
and  saw  what  they  were  doing." 

"  We  didn't  see  them,"  asserted  Pete, 
"  but  we  know  what  is  in  their  mind. 

"  They  traA^elled  slowly,  they  stopped  and 
looked  around.  And  didn't  you  notice  that 
they  had  examined  every  grove  of  trees, 
every  side  canyon  and  the  valley  of  every 
creek?  Why?  They  were  looking  for 
something.  Not  for  game,  or  they  would 
have  followed  the  elk.  For  what?  For 
white  men,  for  us.  Those  Indians  came 
down  the  Little  Missouri  looking  for  us,  and 
they  are  still  looking  for  us.  They  missed 
us  by  a  hair.  I  was  a  little  bit  afraid  their 
leaving  was  a  ruse  to  draw  us  out,  but  it 
wasn't.  We  really  fooled  them  by  not 
hunting  and  travelling  on  the  Little  Mis- 
souri and  by  building  that  stone  shack 
against  the  cliff.  But  it  was  an  all-fired 
close  call  for  us.  They  looked  right  at  our 
fort,  but  didn't  see  it. 

"  They  are  returning  to  their  tribe,  and 
will  tell  a  big  story  about  a  camp  of  white 
men  who  disappeared  in  the  Bad  Lands. 


THE  MESSENGERS  283 

"  I  reckon  we  have  learned  enough.  The 
new  grass  is  coming  out,  and  if  the  weather 
remains  warm,  we  can  start  for  the  Yellow- 
stone in  a  week. 

"  Look  at  the  wild  crocuses  on  that  hill- 
side! Boys,  it's  beginning  to  look  and  feel 
like  summer. 

"  I  wonder  what  Custer  and  the  soldiers 
are  doing.  We  have  lived  alone  in  that  den 
so  long  that  we  don't  know  which  side  of  the 
world  is  up.  Do  you  believe  that  I  was 
sorel}^  tempted  to  have  a  talk  with  those  In- 
dians? Hanged  if  I  wasn't,  Joe.  But  I 
was  afraid  the  scoundrels  would  play  us 
dirt." 

A  week  later  the  stone  fort  on  Beaver 
Creek  was  deserted,  and  four  horsemen  with 
two  extra  packhorses  were  on  their  way  to 
the  Yellowstone  with  nothing  but  Joe's  map 
and  a  compass  to  guide  them. 

"  Why  don't  we  go  to  Fort  Buford  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Yellowstone,"  asked  Hank, 
"  and  find  out  what  has  happened?  " 

"  To  Fort  Buford? "  asked  Joe  thought- 
fully.    "  Pete,  what  do  you  think  of  it?    Do 


284     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

we  want  to  take  another  chance  on  being  de- 
tained by  some  captain  or  colonel  of  the 
army?    It  is  also  fifty  miles  out  of  our  way." 

"  Not  on  your  life,"  protested  Pete. 
"  We  have  obeyed  orders  long  enough.  Let 
us  do  our  own  commanding  and  strike  out 
for  Bozeman  as  straight  as  Ave  can.  If  we 
get  into  another  blooming  fort,  there  is  no 
telling  when  we  get  out  again." 

After  two  days'  travel  they  reached  the 
south  bank  of  the  Yellowstone,  the  largest 
tributary  of  the  Missouri.  The  Yellowstone 
was  running  with  a  swift  current  but  was 
still  low  because  the  snow  water  from  the 
mountains  had  not  yet  reached  the  mouth  of 
the  river.  It  was  fortunate  that  the  river 
was  still  low,  but  even  at  low  water  the  Yel- 
lowstone cannot  be  forded. 

"  How  are  we  going  to  get  across? "  asked 
the  boys  as  they  all  looked  at  the  swift  broad 
current. 

"  It  is  awfully  cold,"  said  Don,  holding  his 
hand  in  the  water. 

"  Well,  Pete,  how  are  we  going  to  do  it?  " 
asked  Joe. 


THE  MESSENGERS  285 

Pete  suggested  that  they  might  try  to 
swim  across  if  the  water  was  not  so  cold. 
Or  they  might  make  a  bull-boat,  but  that 
would  mean  killing  a  buffalo  or  big  elk  and 
then  waiting  a  few  days  till  the  green  hide 
could  be  shrunk  over  a  frame  of  poles.  But 
elk  and  buffaloes  had  been  driven  out  of  this 
part  of  the  country  by  soldiers  and  Indians. 

"Let  us  sleep  over  it,"  advised  Pete. 
"  But  we  are  now  in  dangerous  country  and 
we  must  adopt  the  ways  of  the  Indians  and 
not  sleep  near  our  evening  camp-fire.  After 
dark  let  us  move  into  the  timber  half  a  mile 
do^vn  the  river  and  away  from  the  bank." 

In  the  morning,  Joe  and  Pete  decided  to 
make  a  raft,  which  they  did  by  tying  three 
drift-logs  together.  This  raft,  however, 
would  float  only  two  men  and  the  baggage. 
Joe  and  Hank  started  across  while  Pete  and 
Don  drove  the  horses  into  the  river  and  made 
them  swim  over. 

Then  Hank  watched  the  horses  while  Joe 
crossed  back  and  brought  Pete  and  Don 
over.  Of  course  they  could  not  cross  the 
river   straight,    and   the   last   landing   was 


286     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

almost  a  mile  below  their  first  starting 
point. 

"  Gee! "  exclaimed  Don,  "  that  was  much 
easier  than  I  thought  it  would  be.  Soldiers 
surely  learn  to  do  all  kinds  of  difficult 
things." 

"  Hurry  up,  boys,"  Pete  called,  "  let  us 
get  into  the  hills.  Some  Indian  scouts 
might  see  us  puttering  around  here  in  the 
open  valley.  I  am  glad  we  did  not  have  to 
cross  the  Missouri  with  its  muddy  banks  and 
bottom.  You  can  land  a  horse  almost  any- 
where on  the  gravelly  banks  of  the  Yellow- 
stone. Untie  the  ropes  from  the  raft,  push 
the  logs  into  the  current  and  let  us  move." 

They  were  now  on  the  north  side  of  the 
river  and  headed  across  the  open  sage-brush 
valley  for  the  bluffs.  After  they  had  gone 
about  three  miles  northwest,  they  turned 
more  west  over  fairly  open  rolling  country. 

After  some  time,  they  saw  two  horsemen 
coming  in  the  opposite  direction  whom  Joe 
through  his  glass  made  out  to  be  soldiers. 

"  Hurrah,  boys! "  cried  Pete,  when  he  also 
recognized  the  coming  strangers  as  soldiers. 


THE  JVIESSENGERS  287 

"  The  United  States  uniform  never  looked 
so  good  to  me!  " 

But  what  was  that?  The  soldiers  had 
turned  their  horses  toward  a  wooded  ravine. 

"  Pete,  thev  think  we  are  Indians,"  called 
Joe.  "  Quick,  head  them  off  and  make 
them  stop ! " 

Pete,  who  rode  the  fastest  pony,  soon  was 
in  sight  of  them  again.  He  swung  his  hat 
in  the  air,  threw  off  his  coat  and  waved  his 
arms. 

"  Come  back,  you  boneheads!  Can't  you 
see  we  are  white  men?  "  he  shouted. 

The  distance  was  still  much  too  great  for 
Pete's  voice  to  reach  the  soldiers,  but  they 
had  seen  his  signals  and  turned  to  approach 
him. 

"  You  fellows  are  great  soldiers,"  old  Pete 
greeted  them  roughly.  "  What  are  you 
running  away  for?  Did  you  ever  see  a 
bunch  of  Indians  lead  any  packhorses?  " 

"  You  had  better  go  easy,  old  man,"  spoke 
one  of  the  soldiers.  "  Where  in  blazes  do 
you  come  from?  We  know  our  business. 
Only     yesterday     some     blooming     Sioux 


288     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

dressed  in  white  men's  clothes  pretty  near 
got  us.  Take  warning,  old  man,  if  you  fel- 
lows have  to  travel  in  this  country,  you  had 
better  travel  after  dark.  The  country  is 
alive  with  Indians/' 

By  this  time  both  Pete  and  the  soldiers 
were  ready  to  laugh  at  their  mistakes  and 
rough  greeting. 

"  We  were  so  durned  glad  to  see  you," 
apologized  Pete,  "  that  it  made  me  mad  to 
think  how  near  you  came  giving  us  the  slip." 

The  soldiers  were  carrying  mail  and  dis- 
patches from  General  Gibbon's  command, 
nearly  a  hundred  miles  southwest,  opposite 
the  mouth  of  Tongue  River,  to  Fort  Buford, 
fifty  miles  northeast. 

"  How  are  you  fixed  for  '  chuck  '?  "  asked 
the  soldiers. 

"Lots  of  it,"  replied  Pete.  "If  you 
aren't  in  too  big  a  hurry,  camp  a  day  with  us 
and  tell  us  about  the  Indians  and  the  sol- 
diers. We  were  denned  uj)  in  the  Bad 
Lands  all  winter,  and  don't  know  a  blooming 
thing." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

INDIANS  AND  SOLDIERS 

Sergeant  Hart  and  Private  Lester  were 
very  glad  to  camp  a  day  with  Pete  and 
his  friends. 

Pete  selected  a  safe  place  hidden  among 
the  hills,  the  horses  were  unsaddled  and 
picketed  and  that  was  all  there  was  to  mak- 
ing camp.  The  two  soldiers  carried  no  tent, 
and  the  tepee  was  not  needed  in  the  warm 
weather  with  no  indication  of  rain. 

Joe  built  a  fire  of  the  driest  sticks  the  boys 
could  find,  made  a  big  kettleful  of  coffee, 
fried  a  panful  of  bacon,  set  out  the  last  of 
the  smoked  goose-breast  and  even  produced 
a  small  bag  of  raisins,  which  he  had  kept 
carefully  concealed  for  a  very  special  feast. 

As  soon  as  Joe  had  finished  cooking  he 

put  the  fire  out,  for  Indians  have  both  sharp 

eyes  and  keen  noses  for  smoke. 

The  boys  could  hardly  await  the  moment 

289 


290     THE  THKEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

when  the  soldiers  were  through  eating.  It 
seemed  as  if  they  could  eat  almost  as  much 
as  an  Indian.  "  Golly,"  remarked  Don,  as 
the  two  boys  went  to  free  a  horse  who  had 
tangled  hhnself  in  the  rope,  *'  the  big  blond 
Sergeant,  I  bet,  could  eat  a  whole  guaca- 
lote." 

After  dinner  the  men  lay  down  behind 
some  rocks  from  which  they  could  see  the 
horses  and  also  keep  a  lookout  for  Indians. 

"  Believe  me,  men,"  Sergeant  Hart  be- 
gan, "  there  will  be  some  fighting  this  sum- 
mer, if  we  can  bring  them  to  bay,  and  I  think 
this  time  we  shall  corner  them  somewhere. 

"  You  see,  our  command  from  Fort  Ellis, 
near  Bozeman,  has  been  on  the  trail  ever 
since  March,  We  have  been  patrolling  the 
Yellowstone.  Our  job  was  to  keep  them 
from  crossing  to  this  side,  the  north  side  of 
the  river,  and  I  think  we  did  it.  Of  course, 
you'll  find  a  few  roamers  everywhere;  T.ord 
knows  where  they  belong  and  where  they 
come  from;  but  we  kept  the  big  camps  south 
of  the  Yellowstone,  so  they  can't  strike  out 
for  Canada  and  get  away." 


lOTDIANS  AND  SOLDIERS         291 

"  How  large  is  General  Gibbon's  com- 
mand? "  asked  Joe. 

"About  450  men;  and  we  have  marched 
about  three  hundred  miles,  since  we  left  Fort 
Ellis.  We  are  to  join  Generals  Terry  and 
Custer,  who  are  coming  from  Fort  Lincoln 
with  about  1,000  men,  near  the  mouth  of 
Powder  River. 

"  General  Terry  will  be  commander-in- 
chief,  but  Custer  will  command  his  famous 
Seventh  Cavalry." 

"  Why  doesn't  Custer  command  the  expe- 
dition? "  asked  Joe.  "He  knows  Indians 
and  he  is  a  daring  fighter." 

"  Maybe  he  is  too  daring,"  rejoined  Hart. 
"Anyhow,  he  is  not  in  command.  He  got 
into  a  row  with  Secretary  of  War  Belknap, 
and  President  Grant  would  not  have  let  him 
join  his  regiment  at  all  if  Sheridan  and 
Terry  had  not  asked  for  him.  I  don't  know 
what  it  is  all  about.  I  am  just  telling  you 
what  is  being  told  in  our  camp." 

"  I  was  with  Custer  on  the  Washita,"  Joe 
put  in.  "And  Pete  here  was  in  Powell's 
fight  at  Fort  Phil  Kearney." 


292     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"The  devil  you  say?"  exclaimed  Hari, 
"  and  we  thought  you  four  were  a  bunch  of 
greenhorns  after  we  got  over  our  Indian 
scare. 

"  Do  you  know  that  a  good  many  officers 
think  that  you  were  lucky  in  getting  away 
from  the  Washita  alive?  " 

"  I  know  it,"  admitted  Joe.  "  Some  of 
us  were  pretty  well  scared  when  we  learned 
that  Black  Kettle's  camp  was  only  one  of  a 
string  of  big  camps  of  all  the  southern 
Plains  Indians.  If  they  had  attacked  us  on 
our  thirty-mile  march  to  our  supply-wagons, 
none  of  us  might  have  lived  to  tell  about  it. 
I  do  not  know  what  Custer  thought  of  our 
position,  but  I  have  always  felt  that  we  ran 
a  big  bluff  on  those  southern  Indians." 

"I'd  be  sorry  for  the  officer  and  his 
troops,"  Pete  joined  the  talk,  "  who  tried  a 
game  of  bluff  on  the  Sioux.  They  have 
been  fighting  ever  since  they  were  driven  out 
of  Minnesota,  and  they  will  do  some  more 
desperate  fighting  before  they  give  up  their 
last  buffalo  country. 

"  We  learned  to  know  the  Sioux  at  Fort 


IISTDIANS  AISTD  SOLDIEES        293 

Phil  Kearney.  You  cannot  work  a  com- 
plete surprise  on  a  big  Indian  camp  in  sum- 
mer, and  unless  you  whip  them  and  also 
destroy  their  camp,  they  are  not  defeated." 

The  two  soldiers  replied  that  the  men  in 
their  command  expected  some  hard  fighting, 
if  they  ever  could  get  the  Indians  to  make  a 
stand. 

Sergeant  Hart  then  explained  the  plan  of 
the  campaign  as  far  as  he  understood  it. 

Terry,  Custer,  and  Gibbon  were  to  oper- 
ate from  the  north,  with  the  Yellowstone  as 
a  kind  of  base  and  northern  line.  A  steam- 
boat, the  Far  West,  was  to  come  up  the  Yel- 
lowstone under  government  charter.  This 
boat  would  be  under  the  orders  of  General 
Terry,  and  would  carry  troops  and  provi- 
sions, f  errv  men  and  horses  across  the  river, 
serve  as  headquarters  for  the  General  and 
his  staff;  or,  in  case  of  emergency,  serve  as  a 
hospital  for  sick  and  wounded  men. 

Captain  Grant  Marsh,  who  knew  the  river 
well  and  was  also  a  bold  and  skilful  pilot, 
commanded  her.  She  was  about  200  feet 
long,  could  carry  400  tons  of  freight  and 


294     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

about  thirty  passengers,  and  when  loaded 
would  draw  about  four  feet  of  water.  She 
was  a  very  manageable  boat  on  a  swift  river 
like  the  Yellowstone.  In  June,  when  all  the 
rivers  heading  in  the  mountains  were  high, 
she  might  even  be  able  to  go  up  on  the  larger 
tributaries  on  the  south  side  of  the  Yellow- 
stone, such  as  the  Powder  and  the  Big 
Horn. 

"  Boys,  that  sounds  plumb  good  to  me," 
commented  Joe.  "  Custer  knows  the  Yel- 
lowstone country  as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the 
Big  Horn.  He  was  here  in  '73.  If  he  is 
half  as  lucky  as  he  was  on  the  Washita,  he 
ought  to,  before  the  summer  is  over,  round 
up  all  the  big  Sioux  chiefs,  Crazy  Horse, 
Gall,  Two  Moon,  Sitting  Bull,  and  all  the 
rest  of  them.  But  go  on.  Sergeant,  tell  us 
more  about  the  plan  of  the  campaign.  What 
about  Crook? " 

"  General  Crook,"  the  Sergeant  con- 
tinued, "is  to  press  them  from  the  south, 
from  Fort  Fetterman,  on  the  Platte.  He 
has  a  force  of  about  1,500  men." 

Terry  and  Custer,  the  soldiers  told,  were 


INDIANS  AND  SOLDIERS         295 

expected  to  march  from  Fort  Lincoln  about 
this  time;  the  middle  of  May. 

"But  where  are  the  Indians?"  Hank 
asked. 

"  There's  the  rub,"  replied  Private  Lester. 
"  We  don't  know.  Nobody  seems  to  know, 
except  that  they  are  somewhere  between  the 
Platte  and  the  Yellowstone,  j)robably  on  the 
Powder,  the  Tongue,  the  Rosebud,  and  the 
Big  Horn." 

"  Lester,  you  are  forgetting  that  Crook 
found  the  Indians,"  Sergeant  Hart  inter- 
rupted. 

"  No,  I'm  coming  to  that,"  said  the  pri- 
vate. "  Crook  surprised  the  camp  of  Crazy 
Horse  in  March,  during  cold  weather.  He 
burnt  their  camp,  but  it  turned  out  that  he 
had  found  too  mam^  Indians.  They  all  got 
away,  and  even  recaptured  their  pony  herd 
and  harassed  the  soldiers  all  the  way  back 
to  Fort  Fetterman." 

"  That  is  bad  news,"  Pete  claimed.  "  The 
Indians,  I  am  sure,  think  they  have  beaten 
Crook,  and  they  will  become  bolder  than 
ever. 


296     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"That's  rotten  bad  news!  Why  didn't 
Crook  kill  the  ponies  as  Custer  did?  The 
Sioux  will  never  go  on  any  reservation  till 
they  have  been  whipped  and  whipped  hard. 

"  Too  bad  that  the  winter  was  so  severe 
that  nothing  could  be  done.  If  the  troops 
were  ready  to  strike  now,  they  would  stand 
a  much  better  chance,  because  the  ponies 
are  still  poor  and  weak. 

"  Believe  me,  boys,  you  are  going  to  see 
some  fighting  this  summer.  Sergeant,  when 
do  you  think  Terry  and  Crook  will  be  ready 
to  strike? " 

"  Not  till  the  middle  of  June,  maybe 
later,"  replied  Sergeant  Hart. 

Talking  further  with  the  soldiers,  Joe 
and  Pete  learned  that  Crook  had  about  two 
hundred  Crow  Indians  with  him,  and  that 
Gibbon  also  had  about  twenty  Crow  scouts 
and  a  number  of  Rees. 

"  The  Crows  are  first-class  scouts  and 
trailers,"  Joe  admitted,  "and  also  good 
fighters.  But  the  Rees  are  apt  to  run  and 
demoralize  the  soldiers  if  a  troop  find  them- 
selves in  a  tight  place.     Our  Osage  scouts 


INDIANS  AND  SOLDIERS         297 

before  the  battle  on  the  Washita  had  all 
planned  to  leave  us,  if  the  fight  went  against 
us." 

The  Crows,  or  Absarokas,  as  they  called 
themselves,  were  bitter  enemies  of  the  Sioux, 
who  had  driven  them  out  of  their  best  hunt- 
ing-grounds, the  country  of  the  Big  Horn. 

Both  Hart  and  Lester  knew  the  Crow 
scouts  in  Gibbon's  command,  and  did  not  re- 
gard them  highly  as  fighters.  They  were 
very  valuable  allies  because  they  knew  the 
countrv  south  of  the  Yellowstone,  of  which 
none  of  the  officers  and  soldiers  had  an  in- 
timate knowledge. 

One  story  the  two  soldiers  told  was  of 
special  interest  to  Joe  and  the  boys  because 
it  related  to  an  experience  with  the  Indians 
on  the  part  of  a  number  of  men  from  Boze- 
man;  and  it  showed  clearly  the  temper  of 
the  Sioux. 

These  men  in  the  fall  of  '75  had  started 
to  explore  and  prospect  for  gold  in  the  val- 
ley of  the  Big  Horn,  and  to  select  a  site  for 
a  steamboat-landing,  from  which  goods 
could  be  hauled  by  wagon  to  Bozeman. 


298     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

They  were  at  once  beset  by  the  Sioux  and 
had  to  build  a  rude  fort,  which  they  called 
Fort  Pease,  after  their  leader. 

Almost  daily  the  Sioux  fired  into  the 
stockade,  and  by  midwinter  six  of  the  men 
had  been  killed  and  nine  severely  wounded, 
leaving  only  twenty-five  fit  for  work  and 
fighting. 

The  Sioux,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  to 
grow  more  numerous  every  day,  and  the  be- 
sieged men  began  to  realize  that,  unless  help 
came,  there  could  be  only  one  end  to  Fort 
Pease. 

A  brave  man  volunteered  to  travel  to  Fort 
Ellis  by  night  and  bring  help.  After  many 
anxious  weeks,  when  the  holders  of  the  fort 
began  to  fear  that  their  messenger  had  never 
reached  Fort  Ellis,  a  troop  of  cavalry  was 
seen  riding  down  the  valley  of  the  Yellow- 
stone; and  the  worn-out  defenders  of  Fort 
Pease  were  relieved. 

"  Was  Thomas  Stamford  one  of  the  men 
at  Fort  Pease?"  asked  Joe.  "He  is  the 
father  of  my  boys  here,  and  we  have  no  news 
from  him  since  we  left  Fort  Totten." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

SHAEP  EYES 

The  two  soldiers  did  not  know  the  names 
of  any  of  the  men  who  had  been  in  the  Fort 
Pease  venture;  but  Pete  and  Joe  realized 
that  this  incident  could  only  have  angered 
the  Sioux  and  made  them  more  confident  in 
their  ability  to  hold  their  own  against  the 
whites. 

After  supper,  just  before  sunset,  Pete 
discovered  three  horsemen  crossing  a  sage- 
brush flat  and  going  toward  the  river. 

"  They  are  Indians,"  Joe  decided.  *'  I  can 
tell  by  the  humped  and  limp  way  they  sit 
their  horses.  They  have  not  seen  us,  and  I 
think  they  are  going  to  cross  the  river  after 
dark." 

The  boys  were  eager  to  know  where  they 

came  from. 

"Who  can  tell?"   Pete  remarked  with 

299 


300     THE  THKEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

a  gesture  indicating  anywhere,  nowhere, 
everywhere.  "  I  have  seen  Indians  jump 
out  of  the  ground,  and  I  have  sometimes 
thought  they  had  dropped  out  of  the  clouds. 
These  three  men,  I  could  see,  were  tired  and 
their  horses  were  tired.  They  may  have 
come  from  Fort  Peck,  from  Devil's  Lake  or 
Manitoba.  Or  they  may  just  have  spent  a 
few  days  in  the  hills  north  of  the  river." 

As  soon  as  it  was  dark,  the  six  men  quietly 
saddled  their  horses  and  rode  back  into  the 
hills  for  a  mxile.  The  three  Indians  had  just 
reminded  them  of  the  dangerous  character 
of  the  country,  if  any  of  them  had  need  of 
such  a  reminder.  Had  the  Indians  come 
half  a  mile  farther  north,  they  would  cer- 
tainly have  discovered  the  horses  of  the 
campers. 

The  stories  which  the  men  told  in  the  dark, 
while  they  were  all  sitting  under  some 
scrubby  trees,  added  to  the  sense  of  danger, 
which  had  taken  possession  of  the  boys  dur- 
ing the  day  and  evening,  and  for  the  first 
time  since  they  had  left  Fort  Totten,  they 
awoke  several  times  during  the  night,  when- 


SHARP  EYES  301 

ever  a  horse  snorted  or  a  coyote  uttered  his 
piercmg  howl  close  to  camp. 

The  days  of  happy  security  which  they 
had  enjoyed  in  the  Bad  Lands  were  past, 
and  they  realized  that  there  was  a  long,  dan- 
gerous journey  ahead  of  them. 

At  last  the  meadow-larks  began  to  sing, 
and  the  sun  rose  over  the  rough  comitry  east 
of  the  Yellowstone,  whose  fringes  of  cotton- 
woods  and  willows  began  to  show  the  deli- 
cate green  of  spring. 

None  of  the  men  had  taken  their  clothes 
off  for  the  night,  and  the  soldiers  said  they 
did  not  expect  to  undress  till  they  were  safe 
inside  the  palisade  of  Fort  Buford. 

Before  the  soldiers  left,  they  warned  their 
new  friends  to  travel  with  extreme  caution, 
or  they  would  never  reach  Bozeman. 

"  If  travelling  at  night  was  not  so  slow 
and  tiring  to  both  men  and  horses,"  urged 
Sergeant  Hart,  "  I  would  say  you  should 
not  travel  at  all  during  daylight." 

Joe  rode  with  the  soldiers  for  a  mile.  "  If 
Pete  and  I  were  here  alone,  we  should  strike 
out  for  Gibbon's  camp  and  join  in  this  cam- 


302     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

paign,  but  I  cannot  expose  my  boys  to  the 
dangers  of  a  regular  Indian  war.  From 
what  I  learned  at  Bismarck  and  Fort  Tot- 
ten,  and  from  what  you  have  told  us,  I  fear 
there  is  a  big  storm  brewing. 

"  Good-bye,  men!  Perhaps  we  shall  meet 
again  after  it  is  all  over.  Take  care  of  your- 
selves. Good-bye."  And  Joe,  absorbed  in 
thought,  rode  slowly  back  to  his  companions. 

Pete  was  sitting  alone  at  the  camping 
place,  the  boys  having  gone  to  water  the 
horses  at  a  small  stream. 

"What  do  you  say,  Pete,"  he  asked, 
"  should  we  go  ahead  with  our  plans,  or  had 
we  better  strike  out  for  Gibbon's  camp  and 
take  our  chances  with  the  soldiers?  Things 
look  a  little  worse  than  I  had  expected." 

"  If  we  join  the  soldiers,"  Pete  replied 
after  a  little,  "we  can't  leave  them  again; 
for  the  Indians  are  always  hanging  around 
the  troops,  trying  to  pick  off  some  careless 
straggler,  to  steal  horses,  and  to  watch  the 
movement  of  the  troops.  If  we  join  them, 
we  have  to  stay  with  them  through  the  cam- 
paign.    I  should,  for  myself,  like  nothing 


SHARP  EYES  303 

better.  If  the  Sioux  get  me,  there  is  not 
much  lost.  But  it  would  not  be  the  safest 
way  of  taking  the  boys  through,  and  that's 
our  job,  Joe.     Isn't  it? 

"  Wall,  then,  I  say  we  stick  to  our  plan. 
It  seems  to  me  we  ought  to  feel  our  way 
along  cautiously  in  the  divide  region  be- 
tween the  Yellowstone  and  the  jNIissouri. 
At  this  time  of  the  year,  water  and  grass 
can  be  found  everywhere.  There  are 
patches  of  Bad  Lands  in  that  country, 
where  we  can  hide  a  day  or  two;  and  if  we 
have  to,  we  can  go  by  the  owl  road,  at  night. 
That's  the  way  it  looks  to  me." 

"  All  right,  Pete,"  said  Joe,  "  I  agree.  If 
you  will  stay  with  the  lads  now,  I  shall  do 
a  little  scouting  from  the  rise  west  of  us." 

In  an  hour  Joe  returned  and  reported  that 
he  could  see  no  sign  of  Indians  in  any  direc- 
tion, and  it  was  decided  to  saddle  up. 

They  made  ten  miles  that  day,  but  struck 
one  trail  of  Indians  leadmg  toward  the  river 
and  one  leading  away  from  it.  There  had 
been  four  or  five  men  in  each  party  and 
neither  trail  was  more  than  a  day  old. 


304    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

In  the  afternoon  they  found  a  secluded 
spot  near  Three  Buttes  and  decided  to  re- 
main there  for  the  night,  but  they  considered 
the  country  too  dangerous  to  build  even  a 
small  fire. 

Joe  climbed  the  highest  of  the  buttes,  and 
spent  an  hour  scouting  in  every  direction, 
but  could  discover  no  signs  of  any  Indian 
camp. 

If  there  were  any  Sioux  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  both  Joe  and  Pete  feared  that 
there  were,  they  also  had  made  camp  without 
building  a  fire;  probably  they  were  afraid 
of  straggling  parties  of  Crows  or  Blackfeet. 

One  thing  Joe  and  Pete  did  at  this  camp 
to  lessen  the  danger  of  being  trailed.  They 
took  the  shoes  off  all  their  horses. 

"  We  should  have  done  that,"  said  Pete, 
"  before  we  crossed  the  Yellowstone.  Every 
Indian  that  strikes  a  trail  of  shod  horses 
knows  at  once  that  it  was  made  by  white 
men." 

All  the  shoes  and  even  the  parings  from 
the  hoofs  of  the  ponies  Pete  buried  carefully 
in  a  dry  run. 


SHARP  EYES  305 

"  Why  do  you  bury  all  that  so  carefully?  " 
asked  Don. 

*'  Because,"  Pete  explained,  "  if  an  Indian 
discovered  that  we  had  trimmed  the  hoofs 
of  the  ponies,  he  would  know  at  once  that 
he  was  on  the  trail  of  white  men.  But  now, 
even  if  he  does  discover  that  the  ponies  came 
into  camp  shod  and  left  unshod,  he  might 
think  that  some  Indians  had  taken  the  shoes 
off  some  stolen  horses.  Leave  a  few  scraps 
of  dried  buffalo  meat  at  the  camp-site,  but 
be  sure  not  to  leave  any  scraps  of  bacon." 

Joe  had  been  very  careful  not  to  expose 
himself  against  the  sky-line  on  top  of  the 
butte.  He  had  not  once  stood  up  erect,  but 
had  done  all  his  scouting  in  the  Indian  way, 
by  lying  flat  on  his  stomach. 

He  reported  that  about  five  miles  to  the 
southwest,  in  the  direction  they  were  going, 
there  was  a  small  lake,  which  would  make  a 
fine  camping-place. 

"  Yes,  and  a  fine  place  for  running  into 
Indians,"  Pete  held.  "  That's  the  very  place 
where  we  are  likely  to  find  our  friends  of 
the  last  trail. 


306     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  Joe,  we  have  to  pass  that  lake  at  night. 
I  am  glad  you  saw  it,  and  you  must  lead 
us  well  to  the  south  or  north  of  it.  We  might 
as  well  get  used  to  travelling  with  owls  and 
bats,  although  I  dislike  it  very  much.  It  is 
slow  work  and  very  hard  on  both  men  and 
horses,  especially  in  a  country  where  one  is 
not  well  acquainted." 

When  it  was  dark,  the  travellers  started, 
Joe  taking  the  lead  and  setting  his  course 
by  some  stars  in  the  west  and  a  small  butte 
in  line  with  the  lake. 

"  N"o  talking,  boys,"  Pete  warned.  "  The 
sage-brush  may  have  ears." 

Don  and  Hank  had  never  thought  that 
travelling  at  night  through  a  dangerous 
country  could  be  so  uncanny.  On  the 
plains  out  of  Bismarck,  they  had  not  ex- 
pected to  meet  Indians,  but  now  they  felt 
as  if  a  Sioux  might  rise  out  of  any  clump  of 
sage-brush  or  from  behind  any  rock.  Pete 
need  not  have  told  them  not  to  talk;  they 
were  almost  afraid  to  breathe. 

Several  times  Joe  stopped  to  look  and 
listen  into  the  darkness  ahead. 


SHARP  EYES  307 

"  Don't  swing  too  far  west,"  Pete  whis- 
pered.    "  Those  stars  are  moving." 

"I  am  allowing  for  that,"  Joe  replied. 
"  Do  you  hear  a  dog  barking?  I  thought  I 
did." 

Neither  Pete  nor  the  boys  could  hear  any 
sounds  but  those  that  came  from  coyotes 
and  gray  wolves,  and  again  the  line  moved 
forward  in  silence. 

It  seemed  to  the  lads  that  they  had  gone 
twenty  miles,  when  Joe  halted  again  and 
said  that  to  the  best  of  his  knowledge  they 
had  passed  the  lake  and  were  now  headed 
up  a  small  valley  southwest  of  the  lake. 
"  It  is  only  about  midnight,"  he  concluded, 
"  and  we  might  as  well  go  on  for  a 
while." 

For  about  an  hour  they  wound  their  way 
slowly  through  patches  of  sage-brush  and 
over  open  ground.  Then  the  valley  grew 
much  narrower  and  seemed  to  turn  directly 
south. 

"  I  think,"  Joe  advised,  "  we  had  better 
stop  here  till  we  can  see  where  we  are. 
The  country  right  ahead  of  us  is  too  rough 


308    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

for  night  travel.  Roll  in,  boys,"  he  added, 
"  and  go  to  sleep.  Pete  and  I  will  watch 
till  daylight." 

Hank  soon  fell  asleep,  but  Don  was  so 
wide  awake  that  he  soon  arose  and  sat  down 
with  the  men. 

"  How  do  you  know,"  he  asked,  "  that 
there  aren't  Indians  camping  right  ahead  of 
us?    I  think  I  heard  a  noise  there." 

"  Wall,  son,"  Pete  tried  to  quiet  him,  "  we 
don't  exactly  know  it,  but  it  is  not  a  likely 
camping-place.  There  is  no  water  and  no 
wood.  You  had  better  roll  in  again  and  go 
to  sleep." 

But  Don's  nerves  had  become  unstrung  by 
the  constant  strain  of  his  first  experience  in 
night  travel  through  a  really  dangerous 
country.  He  was  soon  back  and  asked 
rather  timidly : 

"  May  I  sit  with  you?    I  can't  sleep." 

Pete  and  Joe  had  both  been  half  asleep 
and  did  not  answer  at  once. 

"  Please,  Joe,  may  I  sit  with  you? "  Don 
repeated. 

"  Sure,    son !      Sit    right    down    on    my 


SHARP  EYES  309 

blanket.  You  will  have  plenty  of  time  to 
sleep  during  the  day." 

"  Joe,  may  I  ask  you  something? "  re- 
quested Don. 

"  Sure,  son,  fire  away,"  Pete  answered, 
not  giving  Joe  time  to  reply. 

"  Aren't  you  and  Joe  the  least  bit  afraid 
and  worried?  I  think  I  am  too  scared  to 
sleep." 

"  Wall,  son,"  Pete  began  in  his  fatherly 
drawl,  "  I  reckon,  when  Joe  and  I  was  kids, 
we  would  have  been  scared,  too,  in  this  here 
nook  in  the  hills.  You'll  get  over  that.  You 
ought  to  see  some  of  the  soldiers  scared  in 
their  first  fight. 

"  But  a  soldier  soon  forgets  to  worry  or 
be  scared.  If  Joe  and  I  get  through  this 
country,  you  and  Hank  will  get  through." 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  scared  that  way.  Only  I 
can't  sleep,"  repeated  Don.  "  May  I  go 
and  punch  Hank?  Why  should  he  sleep, 
when  the  rest  of  us  are  awake? " 

Pete  and  Joe  laughed,  but  thought  he 
had  better  not  awake  Hank  that  way,  for 
Hank  might  let  out  a  yell. 


310     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

"  I  wish  I  could  punch  him.  He  punched 
me  in  the  Bad  Lands  and  yelled  Indians, 
too." 

"  You  can  punch  him  after  he  is  awake," 
said  Pete,  "  but  not  just  now." 

"  He  is  too  big  when  he  is  awake,"  Don 
came  back. 

"  Wall,  let  him  sleep.  We  shall  not 
travel  many  nights  before  you  can  also  lie 
down  and  go  to  sleep,  whenever  we  make  a 
stop,"  said  Pete, 

At  last  it  grew  light  enough,  so  that  one 
could  see  his  way,  and  Pete  asked  Don  to 
come  with  him  to  a  high  point  a  little  way 
off,  from  which  they  could  look  over  the 
country. 

Pete  was  no  longer  a  young  man,  but 
when  it  came  to  climbing  hills,  Don  could 
not  keep  up  with  him. 

Pete  took  plenty  of  time  to  look  the 
country  over  in  all  directions. 

"  Don't  stand  up,  son,"  he  said  after  a 
while,  "  but  run  your  eyes  close  along  the 
east  shore  of  the  lake  we  passed  last  night, 
and  tell  me  what  you  see." 


SHARP  EYES  311 

"  I  see  nothing  but  water  and  rocks  and 
trees,"  reported  Don  after  he  had  looked  up 
and  down  the  shore  several  times.  "  Do 
you  see  anything?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  I  see  an  Indian  camp." 

"  You  do? "  cried  Don,  looking  at  Pete's 
face  to  make  sure  that  Pete  was  not  jok- 
ing. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  repeated  Pete.  "  It  is  a 
small  hunting-camp  of  four  ox  five  men." 

"  Do  you  see  their  tepee?  " 

"  I  think  I  do,"  the  old  man  assured  the 
boy. 

"  I  give  it  up.  I  guess  I  was  not  meant 
for  a  scout.     I  don't  see  a  thing." 

"  Look  again,"  Pete  encouraged  the  boy. 
"  Do  the  clumps  of  trees  all  look  alike?  " 

"  They  do  to  me,"  the  boy  said,  rather  de- 
jected. 

"  No,  they  don't.  The  large  one  near  the 
middle  of  the  lake  looks  more  bluish  than 
the  others.  That's  smoke  from  a  small  fire. 
It  sort  of  hangs  in  the  trees;  I  mean  the 
smoke  does. 

"  Among  the  trees  I  see  a  large  brownish 


312     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

spot.  That's  the  tepee.  The  top  is  hidden 
by  tall  bushes  and  branches." 

"  Oh,  I  see  the  smoke  now,"  exclaimed 
Don,  "  but  I  can't  make  out  any  tepee." 

"  Wall,  let  us  return  to  camp.  We  must 
move  before  breakfast." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  LOST  TREASURE 

"  DoN^T  start  a  fire,  Joe,"  called  Pete, 
when  he  saw  Hank  gathering  sticks  of  sage- 
brush and  buffalo  chips.  "  We  must  saddle 
up  and  make  for  the  rough  country  to  our 
right.  Spread  out  as  much  as  possible  and 
avoid  travelling  single  file.  There  is  a  Sioux 
hunting-camp  east  of  the  lake." 

"  Don't  you  want  to  go  and  look  at  the 
camp? "  asked  Don. 

"  No,"  said  Joe.  "  If  Pete  has  seen  it 
I  don't  need  to  see  it." 

In  about  an  hour,  they  halted  in  a  box- 
canyon  near  a  spring.  Joe  built  a  small 
fire  to  make  tea,  but  extinguished  the  fire 
as  soon  as  he  had  the  water  boiling. 

"  Hank,"  requested  Joe  after  breakfast, 

"  you  go  and  lie  down  under  the  sage-brush 

near  the  point  of  that  cliff  and  keep  a  sharp 

313 


314     THE  THKEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

lookout,  especially  on  our  back  trail.  If 
you  see  anything  suspicious  come  down  and 
call  us,  but  don't  yell,  and  don't  you  stand 
up  on  the  cliff. 

"  The  horses  cannot  get  out  of  this  can- 
yon, just  let  them  go  as  they  please.  We  will 
dig  a  pool  for  them  below  the  spring,  and 
then  Pete  and  Don  and  I  shall  roll  in  for  a 
nap  till  noon." 

"  Joe,  this  country  looks  almost  like  the 
Bad  Lands,"  Don  said  while  he  helped  Joe 
at  digging  the  pool. 

"  It  is  a  piece  of  Bad  Lands,"  affirmed 
Joe.  "  You  find  them  scattered  all  through 
the  dry  western  plains.  They  are  good 
places  to  hide  in.  The  Indians  are  not  apt 
to  find  us  here,  unless  they  should  happen 
to  cross  our  trail  while  it  is  still  fresh." 

"  How  can  you  tell  how  old  a  trail  is? " 
asked  the  boy. 

"  On  a  fresh  trail,"  Joe  explained,  "  every 
bit  of  soil  around  a  track  stands  up  sharp. 
Then  gradually  the  sand  crumbles  away  on 
the  sharp  edges.  If  the  campers  have  left 
bones  or  scraps  of  food,  you  can  easily  tell 


THE  LOST  TREASURE  315 

whether  those  are  fresh  or  several  days  or 
weeks  old,  and  the  same  is  true  of  all  other 
signs  you  find  on  a  trail  or  camp-site.  For 
instance,  if  you  find  a  camp-fire  still  smol- 
dering, you  know  that  the  campers  are  not 
far  ahead  of  you.  On  the  Washita  cam- 
paign, one  of  our  scouts  smelled  the  smoke 
of  a  deserted  camp-fire,  and  that  was  the 
first  indication  that  we  were  getting  close 
to  Black  Kettle's  camp.  In  a  hostile 
country,  Indians  always  try  to  leave  as  lit- 
tle of  a  trail  as  possible." 

About  noon  Pete  and  Don  relieved  Hank, 
while  Joe  and  Hank  went  on  foot  to  scout 
southwest  of  the  camp  in  the  direction  they 
expected  to  travel.  Hank  said  he  was  not 
sleepy  and  would  rather  go  scouting  with 
Joe  than  remain  in  camp. 

After  about  two  hours,  Joe  and  Hank 
returned  and  the  news  they  brought  was  of 
the  kind  that  would  have  frightened  men 
less  brave  and  experienced  than  Joe  and 
Pete. 

There  v/as  another  small  Indian  camp 
about  five  miles  west  of  their  ovm  box-can- 


316     THE  THREAT  OP  SITTING  BULL 

yon  camp.  Joe  had  seen  smoke  and  felt 
sure  that  he  had  made  out  through  his  glass 
several  ponies  close  to  the  smoke,  but  he 
had  not  seen  a  tepee. 

To  Hank,  the  whole  country  had  just 
looked  like  a  wilderness  of  sage-brush,  rocks 
and  clumps  of  bushes  and  small  trees.  He 
had  not  been  able  to  see  either  smoke  or 
ponies. 

Hank  and  Don  were  much  excited  and 
did  not  even  have  any  appetite  for  supper, 
but  Joe  and  Pete  ate  a  hearty  meal  as  usual, 
and  did  not  seem  in  the  least  disturbed  about 
their  Indian  neighbors. 

"  Indians  never  worried  me,  if  I  saw  the 
varmints  first,"  remarked  Pete  while  he  cut 
off  another  piece  of  dried  meat. 

"  Eat  a  good  meal,"  Joe  encouraged  the 
boys.  "  We  have  plenty  of  time,  for  we  shall 
not  travel  to-night.  It  is  going  to  rain,  and 
night  travel  is  bad  enough  in  good  weather." 

After  supper,  Joe  and  Pete  cut  some 
poles,  set  up  the  tepee  and  put  the  camp  in 
shape  for  a  storm. 

The  boys  threw  some  brush  of  buffalo- 


THE  LOST  TREASURE  317 

bushes  across  the  narrowest  place  of  the  can- 
yon, so  that  the  ponies  could  not  wander 
away  during  the  night. 

"  Make  a  good  fence,"  Joe  had  told  them. 
"  A  horse  is  a  wise  creature  in  many  ways. 
He  never  gets  lost  and  can  always  find  his 
way  back  to  camp.  But  in  other  ways  he 
is  the  biggest  fool  that  ever  walked  on  four 
legs.  He  will  shy  a  thousand  times  at 
things  that  he  knows  are  perfectly  harmless, 
and  he  always  wants  to  go  back  where  he 
came  from.  When  the  storm  breaks,  these 
beasts  might  think  that  there  is  better 
shelter  in  the  Bad  Lands  of  the  Little  INIis- 
souri  than  in  the  Bad  Lands  of  the  Yellow- 
stone." 

The  storm  did  break  just  before  dark  with 
a  high  wind,  a  driving  cold  rain,  and  a  pelt- 
ing shower  of  hail. 

In  hundreds  of  spouts  the  water  fell  into 
the  canvon,  and  in  ten  minutes  the  dry  run 
near  the  tepee  was  a  gurgling,  rushing  tor- 
rent. 

The  boys  sat  wath  awed  faces  near  the  lit- 
tle fire  in  the  tepee  as  the  thunder  crashed 


318    THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

among  the  cliffs  and  rolled  and  rumbled  far 
away  to  the  east. 

But  Pete  smoked  his  old  black  pipe  with 
calm  contentment.  "  That's  a  fine  storm," 
he  drawled  after  a  long  silence,  "  just  the 
kind  I  like.  It  used  to  come  down  like  that 
on  the  Little  Piney." 

"  Does  the  lightning  ever  strike  a  tepee?  " 
asked  Don,  frightened  at  the  wild  uproar  of 
the  first  bad  thunderstorm  on  the  plain. 

"  I  never  heard  of  it,"  answered  Pete. 
"  It  would  be  more  likely  to  strike  the  cliffs, 
the  tall  cottonwoods,  or  the  old  cedars  on  the 
cliffs.  I  have  known  of  them  being  struck, 
but  a  tepee  among  the  low  bushy  cedars  in  a 
canyon  is  quite  safe. 

"  Do  you  realize,  boys,  that  this  is  good 
weather  for  us?  Thar  won't  no  Indians 
trail  us  into  this  box-canyon  after  a  storm 
like  this.  Our  tracks  are  wiped  out  dead. 
Thank  the  Good  Lord  for  this  fine  storm." 

"  We  can  all  sleep  safely  to-night,"  Joe 
added.  "  This  storm  is  more  protection  to 
us  than  a  company  of  soldiers.  So  don't 
worry,  boys.    We  are  warm  and  dry  in  our 


THE  LOST  TKEASUEE  319 

tepee,  if  it  rains  all  night.  When  we  get 
ready,  we  shall  travel  again." 

In  the  morning  the  boys  were  surprised 
to  find  the  horse  pool  washed  away,  and  the 
spring  running  milky  with  a  fine  white  mud. 

Joe  and  Pete  decided  that  they  had  better 
remain  a  few  days  in  the  canyon.  During 
that  time  the  hunting  parties  east  and  west 
of  them  might  move  away. 

"  The  soft  ground,"  Joe  explained,  "  is 
bad  for  us  to  travel  over.  If  we  wait  a  few 
days,  till  the  ground  again  becomes  dry  and 
hard,  our  horses  will  leave  less  of  a  trail. 
You  boys  get  busy  hunting  rabbits  and  sage- 
hens  with  your  bows  and  arrows,  for  our 
dried  meat  and  other  provisions  are  going 
pretty  fast." 

When  the  boys  were  about  to  start  on 
their  hunt,  Hank  came  running  back  to  the 
tepee  with  the  greatest  anxiety  sho^vn  on  his 
face. 

"  What  is  the  trouble?  "  asked  Joe  as  he 
reached  for  his  rifle.  "  Have  the  Indians 
discovered  us? " 

"  No,"  cried  Hank,  "  we  have  not  seen 


320    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

any  Indians,  but  my  box  is  gone.  My  tin 
box  with  the  greenbacks  for  Father  is  gone. 
I  put  it  under  a  rock  near  the  dry  creek 
last  night,  and  now  it's  gone." 

Here  was  indeed  a  serious  misfortune. 
Joe  had  advised  Hank  not  to  keep  the  box 
in  the  tepee,  but  to  hide  it  a  rod  or  two 
away  from  the  camp. 

"  Our  camp  might  be  plundered  by  In- 
dians in  our  absence,"  Joe  had  told  the  boys, 
"  but  no  Indian  would  find  a  small  box  hid- 
den somewhere  under  a  rock." 

The  box  had  been  kept  under  a  rock  in 
the  Bad  Lands  all  winter,  but  on  the  pre- 
vious night  Hank  had  hidden  the  box  near 
the  dry  run,  and  the  water  had  risen  and 
swept  it  away. 

All  four  of  the  campers  searched  the  bed 
of  the  run,  which  was  now  dry  again.  They 
dug  up  every  patch  of  freshly  deposited 
mud,  they  looked  in  every  place  where  the 
flood  had  run  over  the  bank,  but  the  box 
remained  lost. 

"  Pete,  we  have  to  find  that  box  if  it  takes 
all  summer.    I  can't  say  to  Stamford,  *  Here 


"My  tin  box  with  the  gbernbacxs  s-or;  FathbH  .is ; a<',irts ;  >' 

Page  320.  '      '•■''' 


THE  LOST  TEEASURE  321 

are  your  boys,  but  we  lost  the  $10,000,  most 
of  your  business  capital.'  " 

Finding  a  treasure-box  was  new  business 
to  Pete. 

"  I  have  done  a  little  mining  for  gold," 
said  Pete,  "  but  I  can't  figure  out  any  way 
of  finding  a  tin  box,  except  just  to  hunt  for 
it  till  we  find  it.  You  don't  suppose  it  has 
gone  clear  down  to  the  Yellowstone?  " 

"  If  it  has,"  Joe  replied  dejectedly,  "  it 
is  gone.    And  I  can  never  repay  $10,000." 

"  You  wouldn't  have  to  repay  it,"  argued 
Hank.  "  It  is  not  your  fault  that  I  lost  it. 
I  should  not  have  put  it  so  near  the  run,  and 
I  should  have  thought  of  it  when  it  began 
to  rain." 

"  All  the  same,"  maintained  Joe,  *'  I  am 
responsible  to  your  father,  and  we  have  to 
find  that  box,  no  matter  how  long  it  takes 
us." 

Next  morning  the  sky  was  clear  and  the 
birds  were  singing  cheerfully,  but  the  four 
campers  were  far  from  being  cheerful. 

Breakfast  was  eaten  almost  in  silence, 
and  after  the  meal  Joe  sat  in  front  of  the 


322    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

tepee  and  smoked  like  an  old  Indian  chief 
planning  revenge  on  his  enemies. 

"  Look  here,  men,"  he  broke  the  silence, 
"  this  wild  digging  everywhere  is  of  no 
use.  It  is  fifty  miles  along  this  creek  bed 
to  the  Yellowstone.  If  we  fuss  around  the 
way  we  did  yesterday,  it  will  take  us  all 
summer  to  search  this  creek  bed.  We  have 
to  find  a  better  plan.  Sit  down  here,  all 
of  you,  and  do  a  bit  of  thinking." 

"  Would  that  box  float  or  sink  in  water?  " 
asked  Pete. 

"  It  almost  floated,"  answered  Hank.  "  I 
tried  it  in  the  Little  Missouri,  and  it  kind  of 
himg  in  the  water  like  wood  that  is  not  dry." 

"  I  think  I  have  it,"  said  Pete  with  some 
spirit.  "  If  that  fool  box  floats  and  is  air- 
tight, then  it  can't  be  buried  in  mud.  It 
must  be  hung  up  in  some  driftwood,  or  the 
current  must  have  swept  it  out  of  the  bed 
and  left  it  stranded  on  the  bank  or  hung  up 
in  some  brush  or  rubbish." 

"  I  know  it  is  air-tight,"  declared  Hank; 
"  I  looked  it  over  many  times  and  the  tinner 
was  told  to  solder  it  up  air-tight.     Uncle 


THE  LOST  TREASURE  323 

Reuben  and  I  stood  by  and  saw  him  do 
it. 

The  treasure-hunters  now  did  no  more 
digging,  but  Pete  and  Joe  searched  care- 
fully along  the  creek  bed,  and  went  through 
every  pile  of  driftwood  and  rubbish,  while 
Don  and  Hank  lay  on  some  high  points  and 
kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  Indians. 

"  ^^Hiat  would  we  do  if  the  Indians  catch 
us  at  this  place?  "  asked  Don  one  evening 
after  they  had  been  searching  in  vain  for 
several  days. 

"  We  would  make  it  awfully  hot  for 
them,"  declared  Pete  savagely.  "  I  am  not 
in  a  pleasant  mood  for  visitors.  If  they 
know  what's  good  for  their  health  they  will 
keep  away  from  these  diggings. 

"Anyhow,  I  am  not  afraid  of  Indians  we 
see  first.  It  is  those  that  we  don't  see  that  I 
am  scared  of.  If  you  fellows  let  any  In- 
dian sneak  up  on  us  while  Joe  and  I  are 
hunting  that  blarney  box  of  yours,  I'll  use  a 
good  sage-brush  switch  on  you.  So  don't 
you  go  to  sleep  on  picket  duty! " 

\^^en  Joe  and  Pete  were  again  at  work 


324    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

next  day,  Pete  said  he  didn't  really  mind 
hunting  for  that  box,  as  long  as  they  all  had 
plenty  of  time,  but  he  was  getting  a  little 
afraid  some  Indians  might  cross  the  creek 
and  surprise  them. 

"You  don't  think,"  he  asked,  "that 
blooming  box  could  have  sailed  clear  down 
to  the  river? " 

Joe  did  not  think  this  at  all  probable. 
"  No  wood  or  rubbish,"  he  felt  sure,  "  travels 
very  far  on  one  flood  in  a  run  like  this.  It 
is  sure  to  be  stranded  or  hung  up." 

On  Saturday  the  men  came  to  a  place 
where  the  creek  bed  spread  out  flat  over 
some  layers  of  rock,  and  there  Pete  kicked 
with  his  foot  against  a  small  object  covered 
with  dry  grass  and  sticks. 

"  Look  here,  Joe!  "  he  called.  "  Is  that 
Hank's  tarnation  box?  I  never  saw  the 
blooming  thing,  you  know." 

*^ Hurrah!"  shouted  Joe,  forgetting  where 
he  was.  "  Pete,  I  feel  like  kissing  you. 
That's  the  treasure-box!  Pete,  you  don't 
know  how  glad  I  am  that  we  foimd  it!  " 

"Wall,  I  reckon,"  Pete  remarked,  "we 


THE  LOST  TREASURE  S25 

ought  to  hold  a  Thanksgiving  Service  to- 
morrow. Let  us  call  the  boys.  They  will 
do  some  dancing  when  they  see  their  rusty 
old  box." 


CHAPTER  XXX 

TOO  MANY  TRAILS 

The  happy  campers  decided  not  to  travel 
on  Sunday,  but  in  the  afternoon  they  did  a 
little  scouting,  and  found  that  their  neigh- 
bors on  the  east  had  left,  while  those  on  the 
west  were  still  there. 

"  I  declare,"  reported  Pete,  "  those  fel- 
lows west  of  us  must  be  camping  near  a  fine 
spring  or  water-hole.  I  have  a  suspicion 
they  are  Crows;  I  don't  believe  any  Sioux 
would  stay  so  long  in  one  place  in  this  coun- 
try. Their  large  camps  are  all  south  of  the 
Yellowstone.  They  must  know  that  a  big 
campaign  is  planned  against  them,  and  they 
would  not  be  in  a  mood  to  remain  long  in  a 
pleasant,  quiet  hunting-camp,  as  I  know  In- 
dian nature.  I  have  a  good  mind  to  go  and 
find  out  whether  they  are  Sioux  or  Crows." 

"  You  will  do  no  such  thing,"  Joe  told 

326 


TOO  MANY  TRAILS  327 

him.  "  The  Crows  may  be  very  friendly  to 
the  whites,  but  we  travel  much  more  safely 
alone  than  in  company  with  Indians." 

Both  Pete  and  Joe  disliked  night  travel 
very  much.  "  It  really  is  not  travelling," 
they  agreed.  "  You  sort  of  grope  your  way 
along.  If  you  come  to  an  impassable  can- 
yon or  cliff  you  can't  tell  which  way  to  turn, 
and  when  you  make  camp,  j^ou  don't  know 
till  daylight  whether  you  have  stopped  in  a 
safe  place  or  in  a  dangerous  one,  unless  you 
know  the  country  so  well  that  you  can  pick 
your  route  in  spite  of  the  darkness  or  the  de- 
ceptive light  of  the  moon." 

Neither  Joe  nor  Pete  was  well  acquainted 
with  this  country.  They  knew  that  they 
had  to  keep  a  general  southwesterly  direc- 
tion. They  wished  to  keep  from  ten  to 
twenty  miles  north  of  the  Yellowstone,  but 
they  did  not  wish  to  leave  the  land  of  the 
rivers  and  creeks  that  drain  to  the  Yellow- 
stone. 

Joe's  map  had  been  dra^vn  by  a  soldier  at 
Fort  Totten,  who  had  not  claimed  that  it 
was  accurate  in  detail.     It  showed  only  the 


328    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

general  direction  of  the  Yellowstone,  the 
Missouri  and  the  Musselshell,  a  large  tribu- 
tary of  the  Missouri. 

After  a  Sunday  of  rest  they  started,  as 
near  as  they  could  tell,  for  the  big  bend  of 
the  Musselshell.  As  they  would  pass,  at 
least,  three  miles  south  of  the  Indian  camp 
at  the  springe  they  decided  to  risk  travelling 
in  daytime. 

"Any  Sioux  in  this  country  wouldn't  be 
looking  for  white  men  so  far  from  the  Yel- 
lowstone," Joe  reasoned;  "  so  we  ought  to  be 
able  to  slip  through,  if  we  scout  ahead  care- 
fully and  not  try  to  go  fast." 

They  had  covered  less  than  ten  miles 
when  they  struck  a  trail  of  five  ponies  going 
north. 

"Hang  the  luck!"  muttered  Pete. 
"  What  does  it  mean,  Joe?  " 

Joe  examined  the  tracks  silently,  but  Don 
ventured  to  suggest  wild  ponies. 

Pete  looked  at  Don,  as  if  the  lad  had  ut- 
tered some  schoolboy  foolishness. 

"  Hide  in  the  buffalo-bushes,"  he  said, 
"  till  I  find  out." 


TOO  MAINT  TRAILS  329 

In  half  an  hour  he  returned,  and  his  open, 
manly  face  showed  that  he  had  discovered 
something  he  did  not  like. 

"  The  ponies,"  he  reported,  "  may  have 
been  too  wild  for  some  boys  to  ride,  but  each 
one  carried  an  Indian  on  his  back.  They 
passed  here  an  hour  ago.  Too  bad,  Joe," 
he  added  with  a  grim  humor,  "  you  didn't 
get  us  off  a  little  earlier  so  we  could  have 
said  *  How! '  to  the  gentlemen." 

"  It  pains  me  very  much,  Pete,"  Joe  re- 
plied in  the  same  vein,  "  to  hear  that  we 
missed  by  so  little  any  of  your  dear  old 
friends.    Perhaps  we  had  better  follow  them. 

"  Whenever  you  see  an  Indian  trail,  you 
get  sort  of  mad,  just  like  Custer.  You 
should  have  gone  with  him  on  this  cam- 
paign." 

"Oh,  close  up,  you  old  clam!"  retorted 
Pete.  "  If  they  had  ever  kept  you  sweating 
in  a  wagon-box  for  a  whole  day,  you  would 
get  mad,  too,  when  you  found  a  Sioux  trail." 

**  How  do  you  know  that  it  is  a  Sioux 
trail?  "  Hank  made  bold  to  ask. 

"  I  don't  know  it,"  Pete  snapped.     "  I 


330     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

just  reckon  it  is.  A  bunch  of  young  bucks, 
I  reckon,  who  have  gone  after  the  Crow 
camp  at  the  spring. 

"  If  you  fellows  don't  quit  worrying  me  I 
shall  desert  you  and  join  Custer.  I  do  hope 
Custer  will  be  as  lucky  with  Sitting  Bull 
and  Crazy  Horse  as  he  was  with  Black  Ket- 
tle. That  battle  on  the  Washita  wasn't  any- 
thing to  brag  of.  You  just  caught  them 
napping." 

"Did  I  ever  brag  of  it?"  Joe  replied 
quickly.  "  I  always  said  I  didn't  like  that 
kind  of  Indian  fighting." 

"  That's  the  only  kind  that  hurts  them  and 
brings  them  to  terms.  Chasing  painted 
bucks  around  over  the  plains  doesn't  accom- 
plish anything.  They  enjoy  that  and  laugh 
at  the  soldiers  and  the  whole  government." 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  Joe  said  good-na- 
turedly. "  Now  load  your  pipe  and  let  us 
travel." 

''  It  is  loaded,"  Pete  laughed.  "  Spread 
out,  while  we  cross  this  trail,  and  cut  over 
on  hard  ground." 

About  two  hours  later,  Pete,  who  was 


TOO  MA]^Y  TRAILS  331 

scouting  ahead  of  the  party,  came  to  another 
trail  leading  south. 

"  Go  back  and  lay  up  in  that  scrub  we 
have  just  passed,"  he  ordered,  after  he  had 
turned  and  met  his  friends.  "  I  have  struck 
another  trail  of  the  painted  devils.  And 
don't  stake  the  horses  out.  We  have  to  hide 
them  in  the  brush  till  dark.  I  am  going 
back  to  do  a  little  scouting  along  that  trail." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

TALK  OR  SHOOT? 

Pete  stayed  away  so  long  that  the  boys 
began  to  fear  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
the  Indians  whose  trail  he  had  gone  to  fol- 
low. But  Joe  assured  the  boys  that  old 
Pete  scouting  on  foot  would  never  be  seen 
first  by  Indians  on  horseback. 

However,  the  lads  were  much  worried  till 
Pete  returned  to  camp  an  hour  before  dark. 

He  had  followed  the  trail  for  more  than 
three  miles,  he  told  his  friends,  and  while  he 
had  learned  a  good  deal  about  the  party  who 
made  it,  several  points  concerning  their  trail 
were  a  mystery  to  him. 

Only  four  men  had  made  this  trail,  and 

they  were  not  the  same  Indians  who  made 

the  trail  they  had  found  first.     Pete  had 

learned  this  from  the  tracks  of  the  ponies 

332 


TALK  OK  SHOOT?  333 

and  also  from  the  fact  that  this  trail  was  at 
least  a  day  old. 

"Were  they  Sioux  or  Crows?"  Joe  was 
anxious  to  know. 

Pete  said  they  were  Sioux,  and  showed  a 
discarded  moccasin,  which  he  had  picked  up 
at  their  deserted  camp. 

On  what  errand  this  party  was  travelling, 
Pete  had  not  been  able  to  learn.  They  knew 
that  they  were  travelling  in  a  country  where 
their  sworn  enemies,  the  Crows,  might  fall 
upon  them ;  for  they  had  built  no  fire  at  their 
sleeping-place,  which  was  well  hidden,  and 
they  had  allowed  their  horses  very  little  rope. 
It  seemed  to  Pete  that  they  were  on  a  horse- 
stealing expedition,  and  they  would,  of 
course,  be  very  eager  to  secure  a  few  Crow 
or  white  scalps,  if  luck  favored  them, 

"  But  here  is  one  point  that  puzzles  me," 
Pete  wound  up  his  story.  "  The  part  of  the 
trail  which  we  hit  is  a  part  of  a  big  loop. 
The  trail  runs  south  a  mile,  then  west  about 
a  mile,  and  then  shoots  off  almost  straight 
north,  just  a  little  west  of  north. 

"  They  slept  at  the  point  where  the  trail 


334    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

turns  north,  and  one  of  the  party  was  a  mere 
boy,  not  bigger  than  Hank." 

"  How  can  you  know  that,  Pete,"  Don 
asked  eagerly,  "  when  you  never  saw  them? 
Or  did  you  see  them?  " 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  the  trail  was  a  day 
old? "  Pete  came  back  with  a  mild  rebuke. 
"  It  is  easy  enough  to  tell  what  men  did  on  a 
trail,  but  to  tell  the  reason  why  they  did  it, 
what  was  in  their  mind ; — that  is  not  so  easy. 

"  It  was  not  difficult  to  tell  a  boy's  bed 
from  a  man's  bed.  But  why  did  they  make 
this  loop  in  their  trail? 

"  Here  is  my  guess:  I  know  that  one  of 
the  party  was  a  boy.  Two  of  them  were 
young  men,  friends  of  the  boy.  The  leader, 
an  older  man,  intended  to  return  to  the  Yel- 
lowstone; but  during  the  evening,  the  boy 
and  youths  persuaded  him  to  go  a  little 
farther  into  the  dangerous  country." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  us,"  asked  Joe,  who 
had  been  listening  intently,  "  that  we  struck 
their  trail  twice  and  did  not  see  it  the  first 
time? " 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  do  mean  to  tell 


TALK  OR  SHOOT?  335 

you.     Here  is  their  trail,  and  here  is  ours." 
And  Pete  traced  the  trails  on  the  ground ; 


WhtCctWc/V^sTfcttl 


"Well,  I'll  be  dinged!"  muttered  Joe. 
"  Then  they  are  now  north  of  us,  and  we 
shall  either  cross  their  trail  again,  or  they 
will  cross  ours,  if  they  ever  return  to  the 
Yellowstone." 

"  You  have  said  it,  Joe! "  Pete  called  out, 
slapping  his  knee.  "  For  the  next  fifty 
miles  we  have  to  be  on  the  watch  for  that 
bunch  of  thieves  and  cutthroats,  until  we 
find  their  trail  going  south." 

"  How  do  you  know  they  are  thieves  and 
cutthroats? "  Don  was  going  to  ask,  but  he 
caught  himself  in  time,  and  tried  to  answer 
his  own  question. 

"  Let  us  have  a  meal  of  that  tender  Little 


336     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Missouri  mutton,"  Pete  requested  after  a 
time.  "  We  had  better  not  build  a  fire,"  he 
added.  "  It  would  be  careless  to  sleep  near 
a  fireplace  to-night,  and  there  is  no  other 
safe  camping-place  in  sight." 

Men  and  horses  were  allowed  to  rest  in 
this  camp  only  till  about  midnight,  when  the 
train  moved  until  there  was  daylight  enough 
to  select  a  camp  where  there  was  water  and 
good  grass  for  the  horses. 

From  now  on  they  proceeded  by  slow 
laborious  stages  of  night  travel  till  they 
reached  a  river  of  considerable  size,  the  first 
they  had  touched  since  they  had  left  the 
Yellowstone. 

The  river  seemed  to  come  from  the  west, 
but  made  a  big  bend  to  the  north  some  ten  or 
twelve  miles  south  of  the  point  where  the 
travellers  had  struck  it.  From  a  descrip- 
tion, which  a  soldier  at  Fort  Totten  had 
given  them,  Joe  and  Pete  agreed  that  it 
must  be  the  Musselshell,  which  runs  into  the 
Missouri. 

The  Yellowstone  receives  no  tributary  of 
any  size  from  the  north,  and  both  the  two 


TALK  OR  SHOOT?  337 

men,  as  well  as  the  boys,  were  glad  to  make 
camp  once  more  on  a  stream  with  green  trees 
and  fine  grass;  for  the  somber  gray  of  the 
sage-brush  had  begun  to  weary  the  travel- 
lers. Of  trees  they  had  seen  nothing  but  a 
stunted  growth  since  they  had  crossed  the 
Yellowstone,  and  the  foliage  of  some  of  the 
larger  bushes  was  of  the  same  silver-gray  as 
that  of  the  sage-brush. 

The  fine  hairs  which  cause  this  grayish 
color  protect  the  plant  against  too  much  sun- 
light and  evaporation,  but  the  trees  and 
shrubs  so  protected  do  not  make  cheerful 
landscape  of  rich  green  trees  and  shrubs  like 
those  in  eastern  North  America  and  West- 
ern Europe.  They  paint  the  grayish  and 
subdued  foliage  of  our  arid  West  and  of  the 
Mediterranean  comitries  in  Europe.  The 
farther  west  one  travels  from  the  Mississippi 
the  more  small  plants  and  shrubs  he  finds,  the 
foliage  of  which  is  coated  with  gray  silver, 
and  which,  for  that  reason,  stand  out  in 
strong  contrast  to  their  green  neighbors. 
On  the  dry  western  plains,  even  the  grass 
has  a  grayish  tint,  very  different  from  the 


338     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

rich  green  pastures  and  meadows  we  enjoy 
in  New  England,  Kentucky,  or  Minnesota. 

When  Pete  and  Joe  reached  the  Mussel- 
shell, the  foliage  was  at  its  best.  Every  leaf 
looked  fresh  and  delicate,  as  if  some  nymph 
had  specially  cleaned  and  burnished  it. 
Western  rivers  run  like  wreaths  of  beauty 
through  the  treeless  grassy  plains  and  the 
great  stretches  of  sage-brush  and  dull  brown 
hills. 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  June,  the  time 
when  nature  everywhere  in  the  north,  but 
most  strikingly  on  western  rivers,  has 
donned  her  bridal  garb.  The  wild  roses, 
next  to  the  goldenrod  and  the  sunflowers, 
the  most  abundant  beautiful  wild  flowers  of 
North  America,  were  in  bloom,  and  the  birds 
were  still  in  full  song. 

Although  the  two  white  Indians,  as  Joe 
sometimes  called  the  boys,  were  by  no  means 
blind  or  deaf  to  the  appeal  of  birds  and 
flowers,  a  river  makes  its  own  peculiar  ap- 
peal to  every  boy.  The  water  was  still  a 
little  cool,  but  that  did  not  matter  to  Don 
and  Hank,  who  had  not  enjoyed  a  real  swim 


TALK  OR  SHOOT?  339 

since  they  left  Minnewaukan,  the  large 
Spirit  Lake  of  the  Dakotas. 

Then  the  fishing-tackle  was  found,  and 
boundless  was  the  joy  when  they  brought  a 
string  of  catfish  or  bullheads  to  camp.  If 
Joe  had  not  strictly  forbidden  all  yells,  the 
lads  w^ould  have  given  a  shout  every  time 
they  pulled  out  a  fish. 

Hank  noticed  that  Pete  and  Joe  did  not 
take  a  swim  together,  but  while  one  was  in 
the  river  the  other  seemed  to  be  puttering 
around  camp. 

During  the  week  of  night  travel  they  had 
not  once  built  a  fire. 

This  rigid  precaution  had  been  forced 
upon  them  by  many  signs  of  danger,  which 
they  had  discovered  during  the  first  part  of 
the  week.  Not  only  did  they  find  several 
trails  and  camp-sites,  but  twice  they  saw  a 
small  party  of  Indians  pass  through  the 
country,  one  of  them  coming  within  a  mile 
of  their  camp.  Whether  these  Indians  were 
Sioux  or  Crows,  they  had  no  means  of  find- 
ing out.  They  seemed  to  be  headed  for  the 
Big  Horn,  and  Pete  was  of  the  opinion  that 


340     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

they  were  Sioux  who  intended  to  join  one  of 
the  big  camps  of  their  people  south  of  the 
YelloAvstone. 

During  the  last  three  days,  however,  no 
Indians  or  signs  of  Indians  had  been  discov- 
ered, and  Joe  thought  it  would  be  safe  to 
rest  a  few  days  on  the  Musselshell.  At  this 
place  Pete  again  built  fires  for  cooking  small 
game  and  fish,  but  he  always  lit  the  fire  after 
dark  in  an  enclosure  of  skins  and  robes. 

"  They  can't  see  the  smoke  at  night,"  ex- 
plained Pete,  "  and  the  skins  will  keep  the 
light  from  showing  at  any  distance." 

Not  only  in  the  matter  of  fires,  but  in 
everything  else  were  the  two  men  extremely 
cautious.  The  horses  were  always  picketed, 
and  either  one  of  the  men  or  the  two  boys 
were  on  guard. 

When  they  left  the  camp  on  the  Mussel- 
shell they  travelled  straight  south,  and 
reached  the  big  bend  of  the  river  in  the  even- 
ing after  a  day's  journey  of  some  twenty 
miles.  Here  they  made  camp  in  a  small 
grove,  surrounded  by  bushes  of  buffalo- 
berry  and  other  small  shrubs. 


TALK  OR  SHOOT?  341 

Next  morning,  when  they  were  about 
ready  to  travel,  Pete,  who  had  been  lookmg 
over  the  country  from  a  high  place,  came 
running  back  to  camp. 

"  Hide  the  horses  behind  the  brush,"  he 
spoke  hurriedly.  "  We  can't  leave.  Eight 
or  ten  Indians  are  coming  right  down  on  us. 
Everybody  get  ready  for  a  fight! 

"  We  must  muzzle  the  horses,  so  they  can't 
make  a  noise !  " 

In  half  an  hour  the  Indians  stopped  in 
another  grove  only  a  few  hundred  yards 
away,  but  it  was  evident  that  they  had 
no  idea  of  the  presence  of  the  party  of 
whites;  for  they  picketed  their  horses, 
and  sat  do^vn  to  eat,  but  they  built  no 
fire. 

"  If  any  of  them  leave  the  grove  thiey  will 
surely  discover  our  horses,"  declared  Joe, 
"  for  that  brush  is  too  small  to  make  a  good 
hiding-place.  Come,  Pete,  let  us  throw  the 
horses  and  keep  them  lying  down.  If  we 
don't,  we  shall  be  discovered." 

Don  and  Hank  were  surprised  to  see  how 
quickly  the  two  men  threw  each  horse  and 


342     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

tied  his  legs  in  such  a  way  that  he  had  to  lie 
flat  on  his  side. 

"  It  is  hard  luck  for  the  poor  beasts/' 
whispered  Joe,  *'  but  we  had  to  do  it.  Keep 
your  knives  handy.  We  may  want  to  cut 
them  loose  in  a  hurry." 

That  was  a  long,  anxious  day.  All  talk- 
ing was  done  in  a  whisper  and  no  man  could 
leave  the  grove  all  day. 

Fortunately  the  Indians  had  no  dogs  with 
them,  and  the  men  of  the  party  seemed  to  be 
tired  and  lay  down  to  sleep. 

"  Couldn't  we  slip  away  while  they  are 
asleep? "  asked  Hank. 

"  We  could  do  so  on  foot,"  Joe  thought, 
"  but  not  on  horseback.  The  stamping  of 
the  horses  would  wake  them  up ;  and  I  can't 
think  of  leaving  the  poor  beasts  tied  up  to 
starve." 

"  No,  we  can't  do  that,"  the  boys  agreed; 
"  we  won't  abandon  the  horses  that  carried 
us  all  the  way  from  Fort  Totten.  We'll 
fight  before  we  do  that." 

"  Then  we  have  to  stay  here  till  evening," 
decided  Joe.     "  They  will  leave  before  dark, 


TALK  OR  SHOOT?  343 

I  think,  and  they  may  not  discover  us.  We 
could  make  a  strong  defense  in  this  place, 
but  if  they  catch  us  travelling  in  the  open, 
they  would  have  us  at  a  great  disadvantage." 

Toward  evening  the  Indians  did  what  Joe 
had  expected.  They  brought  in  their  horses 
and  made  ready  to  start. 

"By  the  great  horn  spoon!"  muttered 
Pete.  "  They  are  coming  this  way.  They 
will  run  right  into  us !  " 

A  minute  later  the  Indians  stopped,  as 
one  of  them  pointed  to  the  horses  stretched 
out  under  the  trees. 

"  Come  on,  Pete,"  whispered  Joe,  ''  we 
have  to  talk  to  them.     You  boys  stay  under 

cover." 

"  Hang  it,  Joe,"  replied  Pete,  "  shooting 
would  do  more  with  them  than  talking." 

But  when  Joe  stepped  out  in  the  open, 
Pete  did  the  same. 

When  the  Indians  saw  the  two  armed  men 
suddenly  stand  up  within  pistol  shot  they 
quickly  galloped  to  a  safe  distance  before 
they  took  time  for  another  look  at  their  un- 
expected camp  neighbors. 


344     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Joe  made  signs  of  peace  to  them,  but  also 
signalled  them  not  to  approach,  but  to 
leave. 

Joe  and  Pete  knew  at  once  that  the  In- 
dians were  Sioux.  "  They  are  holding  a 
council,"  said  Pete.  "  If  they  felt  sure  that 
there  were  only  two  of  us,  they  would  soon 
make  up  their  minds  what  to  do." 

"  We  want  to  talk,"  one  of  the  Indians 
signalled. 

"  No  talk,"  Joe  told  them  in  sign. 
"  Leave."  And  he  and  Pete  pointed  their 
rifles  at  the  Indians. 

At  that  the  Indians  yelled  and  scattered. 
They  did  not  leave,  however,  but  began  to 
ride  around  the  camp,  trying  to  discover  how 
many  men  it  contained. 

"  I  told  you,"  said  Pete,  keeping  his  eyes 
on  them,  "  that  shooting  would  do  more  with 
them  than  talking.  They  won't  leave  till 
we  do  some  shooting.  Gun  talk  is  the  only 
talk  these  Sioux  will  listen  to." 

"  We'll  fight,"  replied  Joe,  "  but  we'll  not 
murder  men  from  ambush." 

The    Sioux    were    getting    bolder    now. 


TALK  OR  SHOOT?  345 

They  came  closer  and  closer  to  the  grove, 
and  shouted  and  signalled  defiance  at  the 
four  whites. 

"  White  squaws!  "  they  shouted,  **  Cow- 
ards! Come  out  and  fight!  You  are  no 
men ! " 

Very  soon  they  began  the  tactics  em- 
ployed by  the  Plains  Indians  in  those  days. 
They  raced  around  the  camp  hanging  to 
the  farther  side  of  their  ponies;  and,  pro- 
tected that  way,  they  fired  wildly  into  the 
camp. 

"  They  are  in  range! "  called  Joe.  *'  Take 
careful  aim  and  blaze  away!  " 

Three  ponies  fell  at  the  first  fire.  One 
Indian  was  dead,  one  badly  wounded,  and  a 
third  one  ran  hurriedly  out  of  range.  Those 
still  on  horseback  had  also,  for  the  present, 
had  enough  of  fighting  and  quickly  withdrew 
to  a  safe  distance. 

But  before  it  grew  dark  they  came  back 
for  another  attack.  All  except  one,  how- 
ever, seemed  to  be  afraid  to  come  within 
range. 

"  Get  that  fellow  on  the  calico  pony," 


346     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Pete  called.  "  He  is  getting  pretty  fresh. 
Maybe  he  does  not  believe  we  are  armed 
with  breech-loaders.     All  together  now!  " 

The  pony  fell  dead,  but  the  rider  crawled 
away  behind  some  bushes,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible to  tell  whether  he  was  hit  or  not. 

The  remaining  Sioux  had  no  further  de- 
sire to  fight  and  disappeared  into  a  piece  of 
woods  half  a  mile  away. 

Joe  and  Pete  released  the  horses,  and  the 
poor  creatures  appeared  very  happy  to  be 
on  their  feet  again,  and  at  once  began  to  ap- 
pease their  hunger  on  the  grass  and  brush 
within  reach. 

The  two  men  also  were  ready  for  a  hearty 
cold  supper,  but  the  boys  were  too  excited  to 
eat  much. 

"  Will  they  come  back  after  dark,  when 
we  can't  see  them?  "  asked  Don. 

"  You  need  not  worry  about  that,  son," 
said  Pete,  trying  to  dispel  the  lad's  appre- 
hension. "  These  Indians  will  crawl  up 
during  the  night  and  carry  away  their  dead 
and  wounded,  but  they  are  not  likely  to  mo- 
lest us,  unless  they  think  they  could  steal  our 


TALK  OR  SHOOT?  347 

horses.  All  tribes  will  steal  horses  after 
dark,  but  they  will  not  fight,  unless  cor- 
nered." 

There  was,  of  course,  no  sleep  and  no 
cheerful  fire.  The  horses  were  tied  in  the 
middle  of  the  grove,  and  the  four  campers 
quietly  moved  from  place  to  place,  peering 
into  the  night  and  listening  for  sounds  of 
their  crafty  enemies. 

About  midnight  Joe  and  Pete  thought  it 
was  time  to  move. 

"  Listen!  Do  you  hear  a  song  off  east?  " 
asked  Pete.  "  I  can  just  hear  it.  It  is  the 
death-song  in  the  Sioux  camp.  They  have 
brought  in  their  dead,  and  now  is  the  time 
for  us  to  be  off." 

"  Yes,  it  is  time,"  Joe  agreed.  "  Every- 
thing we  do  not  absolutely  need  we  leave 
here. 

"  We  must  make  a  dash  for  the  Crow 
country  west  of  the  mouth  of  the  Big  Horn. 
God  knows  what  we  may  run  into,  but  it 
can't  be  much  worse  than  what  we  have  gone 
through." 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

CAUGHT  IN  THE  OPEN 

As  silently  as  possible,  the  four  white 
travellers  abandoned  their  camp  and  started 
southwest  along  the  route  Pete  had  picked 
out. 

It  seemed  to  the  boys  that,  in  spite  of  all 
precaution,  they  made  enough  noise  to  be 
heard  a  mile  off.  Now  a  horse  stumbled 
over  a  rock,  now  one  snorted  or  even  started 
to  whinny;  for  to  keep  still  when  he  ought 
to  is  one  of  the  things  a  horse  cannot  learn. 

It  was  a  rough  country  for  night  travel, 
and  all  were  glad  when  day  dawned  so  they 
could  see  where  they  were  going. 

At  a  small  stream  running  toward  the 

Musselshell,  they  made  a  brief  halt  to  water 

the  horses,  let  them  pick  a  little  food,  and 

have  a  bite  to  eat  for  themselves.     Then 

they  pushed  on  as  fast  as  possible,  without 

straining  and  overheating  the  horses. 

348 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  OPEN  349 

At  noon  they  stopped  for  about  an  hour, 
and  again  they  travelled  at  a  steady  speed, 
making  good  use  of  their  spare  horses. 

When  they  made  camp  shortly  before 
dark,  both  men  and  horses  were  tired  and 
hungry.  The  horses  were  quickly  staked 
out,  the  men  ate  a  piece  of  dried  venison, 
took  a  drink  at  a  spring  and  were  asleep  in 
their  blankets  before  the  stars  came  out ;  all 
except  Pete,  who  had  volunteered  to  stand 
guard  till  midnight,  when  Joe  would  relieve 
him. 

Early  in  the  morning  they  started  at  a 
more  leisurely  gait,  because  they  reasoned 
that  they  now  had  so  long  a  start  of  the 
Indians  that  they  could  not  be  overtaken. 

It  was  Joe's  opinion  that  their  recent 
enemies  would  first  look  for  them  in  the 
abandoned  camp,  before  they  took  up  the 
trail,  and  they  might  not  pursue  a  party  that 
had  inflicted  such  heavy  loss  on  them. 

"  I  should  like  to  know,"  said  Pete,  as 
they  wound  leisurely  from  coulee  to  coulee, 
"  where  these  Sioux  came  from,  and  where 
they  are  going." 


350     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Joe  thought  that  they  most  likely  came 
either  from  the  Fort  Peck  country  or  from 
Manitoba.  "And  I  think,"  he  continued, 
*'  they  are  going  to  join  the  hostiles  south  of 
the  Yellowstone.  We  do  not  know  what  is 
going  on  there,  but  I  suspect  that  all  these 
straggling  Indians  know  where  the  big 
Sioux  camps  are  and  where  Custer  and 
Terry  and  Gibbon  are  with  the  soldiers. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  a  great  deal  of  this 
Indian  war  ever  since  we  met  the  two  sol- 
diers. 

"  The  Sioux  warriors  can  travel  faster 
than  the  soldiers.  If  Terry  and  Custer 
catch  them  at  all,  they  are  likely  to  catch 
them  in  one  big  camp,  and  the  Indians  will 
put  up  a  desperate  fight." 

"  That  they  will,"  Pete  assented.  "  Cus- 
ter will  not  be  able  to  rout  the  Sioux  the  way 
he  routed  the  camps  on  the  Washita.  The 
Sioux  will  fight.  They  have  able  leaders, 
are  well  armed,  and  are  veteran  fighters." 

"A  strange  people  the  Indians  are," 
mused  Joe,  when  the  company  halted  for  a 
few  hours'  rest  at  noon.     "  I  once  heard  a 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  OPEN  351 

lecturer  at  Boston  say  they  were  men  of  the 
Stone  Age,  who  were  still  leading  the  life 
our  ancestors  led  perhaps  ten  thousand 
years  ago,  and  that  the  Stone  Age  men  dis- 
appeared from  Asia  and  Europe  long  before 
there  was  any  written  history. 

''  But  the  days  of  the  wild  Indians  are 
numbered.     The  buffaloes  are  going,  and 
when  they  are  gone  the  Indians  must  travel 
the  '  white  man's  road.'     This  will  be  the 
last  big  Indian  war,  but  I  feel  that  there  will 
be  some  terrible  fighting  before  it  is  all  over." 
In  the  afternoon  the  four  men  discovered 
to  their  horror  that  they  were  being  followed. 
A  party  of  six  or  seven  Indians  had  ap- 
proached \hem  within  half  a  mile  by  travel- 
ling in  a  deep  couKe.     They  were  coming 
on'f resh  horses  and  were  not  the  party  from 
the  ^Musselshell. 

"  It's  a  run  for  life !  "  ordered  Joe.  "  We 
can't  take  a  chance  here  in  the  open.  Don't 
spare  your  horses,  boys!  " 

It  was  soon  apparent  that  the  Indians 

were  gaining. 

"  They  are  trying  to  cut  us  off  from  reach- 


352     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

ing  the  Yellowstone  valley,"  Pete  called  to 
Joe.  "  Look  after  the  boys,  Joe.  I'm  an 
old  man.  It  doesn't  matter  about  me." 
And  the  soldier  turned  his  horse  and  faced 
the  yelling  savages. 

The  Indians  at  once  swerved  to  right  and 
left.  But  the  fighting  blood  was  up  in  the 
veteran  of  many  battles.  Undisturbed  by 
the  yelling  and  wild  shooting  of  the  Sioux, 
he  took  deliberate  aim,  and  brought  down 
the  two  nearest  Indians. 

But  now  his  own  pony  fell,  and  Pete  lay 
down  flat  behind  his  fallen  horse. 

When  Joe  and  the  boys  heard  the  shots 
and  saw  their  old  friend  unhorsed,  they  were 
at  his  side  as  quickly  as  the  horses  could 
carry  them. 

At  the  same  moment  Pete  sprang  to  his 
feet,  waved  his  arms  and  shouted: 

"  Come  on,  ye  howling  divils !  " 

But  the  Sioux  had  lost  all  desire  to  come 
on.  They  scattered  to  the  northward  and 
whipped  up  their  horses  to  get  out  of  range 
as  fast  as  possible. 

Pete  mounted  one  of  the  extra  horses,  and 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  OPEN  353 

the  four  men  once  more  turned  their  faces 
toward  the  Yellowstone,  whose  valley  was 
now  in  plain  sight. 

For  several  miles  three  of  the  Indians 
watched  them,  but  were  very  careful  not  to 
come  within  range  of  Pete's  rifle. 

Just  before  dusk  the  four  whites  rode 
slowly  into  a  small  grove  of  cottonwoods 
half  a  mile  from  the  river. 

"  This  is  a  good  place  for  a  camp  and  for 
a  fight,"  said  Pete.  "  If  any  more  Sioux 
want  to  try  us,  we  can  take  care  of  a  score 
of  them  herel " 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

TO  THE  LITTLE  BIG  HORN 

If  the  Sioux  had  located  the  white  man's 
camp  they  did  consider  it  too  risky  to  molest 
this  Idnd  of  white  men  any  more. 

Although  Joe  and  Pete  omitted  no  pre- 
caution, they  saw  no  sign  of  hostile  Sioux 
either  during  the  night  or  in  the  morning. 
The  day  being  Sunday  they  intended  to  re- 
main in  camp. 

In  the  afternoon,  while  they  were  discuss- 
ing what  to  do  next,  the  boys  discovered  a 
lone  Indian  riding  up  the  Yellowstone. 

Joe  brought  his  glass  to  bear  on  him  and, 
from  the  way  he  wore  his  hair  in  a  scalp 
lock,  at  once  pronounced  him  a  Crow,  or 
Absaroka. 

"  Let  me  see  if  I  cannot  bring  him  into 

camp,"  volunteered  Pete.     "  He  can  tell  us 

just  where  we  are  and  where  Custer  and  the 

soldiers  have  gone." 

354 


TO  THE  LITTLE  BIG  H0R:N^      355 

So  Joe  mounted  the  fastest  pony  and 
started  for  the  river.  "  I  may  have  to  run 
him  down,"  he  remarked  as  he  left  the  camp. 

When  the  Crow  saw  Joe  waving  his  hat, 
he  was  satisfied  that  the  approaching  rider 
was  really  a  white  man  and  made  no  at- 
tempt to  escape. 

Pete  hoped  that  the  old  Indian  had  iDicked 
up  a  few  words  of  English  from  the  traders 
and  soldiers,  and  asked  him:  "Where  are 
we?" 

"  Yellowstone,"  replied  the  Crow,  point- 
ing toward  the  river. 

"Where  is  the  Big  Horn?"  inquired 
Pete. 

"  Little  way,"  replied  the  Crow,  pointing 
east.     "  There,  near  big  trees." 

And  Pete  learned  with  joy  that  they  had 
made  camp  only  five  miles  above  the  mouth 
of  the  Big  Horn,  which  enters  the  Yellow- 
stone from  the  south  in  the  present  State  of 
Montana. 

"  Come  to  camp,"  Pete  invited  his  in- 
formant.    "  Eat  good  chuck." 

The  Indian  was  quite  willing  to  do  so,  for 


356     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

the  Crows  had  never  been  at  war  with  the 
whites. 

"  Joe,"  said  Pete,  when  he  arrived  with  his 
new  friend,  "  set  out  all  the  white  man's 
chuck  we  have  left.  My  friend  here  is  just 
the  man  we  need." 

When  the  Crow  had  done  full  justice  to 
Joe's  sweet  coffee,  the  last  bacon  and  a  big 
kettleful  of  corn  mush,  Joe  had  the  Indian 
fill  his  pipe  with  real  tobacco,  and  then  Pete 
was  ready  for  more  talk. 

"  Where  is  Custer,  Chief  Long- Yellow- 
Hair?  "  asked  Pete. 

"  March  from  Rosebud  to  Little  Big 
Horn  maybe.  Gone  three  sleeps.  Maybe, 
have  big  fight.     Big  Sioux  camp." 

"  That  means  Custer  left  the  Rosebud  on 
Thursday,  probably  for  the  Little  Big 
Horn,"  explained  Pete.  "  This  is  Sunday, 
the  twenty-fifth  of  June. 

"  Where  is  Terry  and  all  the  other  sol- 
diers?" 

"  March  up  Big  Horn." 

"Where  is  the  fire-boat?'* 

"  Go  up  Big  Horn." 


TO  THE  LITTLE  BIG  H0R:N'      357 

"  The  large  fire-boat  went  up  the  Big 
Horn? "  repeated  Pete,  for  no  steamer  had 
ever  been  known  to  ascend  the  swift  current 
of  the  Big  Horn. 

"  Yes,  big  fire-boat  go  up  Big  Horn,  when 
sun  was  high.     Some  soldiers  on  it." 

When  Pete  became  convinced  that  a 
steamer  had  actually  gone  up  the  Big  Horn, 
he  was  strongly  tempted  to  follow  the  boat. 

"  Joe,"  he  asked,  "  dare  we  risk  it  with  the 
lads?  Some  of  our  friends  may  need  us, 
and  I  would  sure  like  to  be  there." 

Joe  thought  they  were  not  likely  to  meet 
worse  dangers  than  those  they  had  already 
faced,  and  the  boys  begged  to  go,  so  they 
could  all  learn  the  outcome  of  Custer's  big 
fight  with  the  Sioux. 

"Can  we  cross  the  Yellowstone?"  he 
asked  the  Indian. 

"  Maybe  in  bull-boat.  I  hide  bull-boat  in 
bushes." 

After  a  good  deal  of  argument,  and  the 
promise  of  some  tobacco,  a  hunting-knife, 
and  a  red  blanket,  the  old  man  consented  to 
guide  the  party  of  whites  up  the  Big  Horn 


358     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

during  the  night;  but  he  insisted  that  he 

would  return  when  the  sun  came  up  next 

morning. 

"  Sioux,"  he  said.     "  Sioux  everywhere. 

Big  camp  on  Little  Big  Horn,  maybe." 
He  was  too  old,  he  explained,  to  fight  the 

Sioux  any  more,  but  when  he  was  a  young 

man  he  had  brought  many  Sioux  scalps  to 

his  lodge. 

"  Joe,  couldn't  this  Indian  betray  us  to 

the  Sioux? "  asked  Don,  as  the  company  of 

five  was  winding  in  silence  through  very 

rough  and  broken  country. 

"A  Crow  would  never  betray  a  white  man 

to  the  Sioux.     That  would  be  contrary  to 

Indian  nature." 

"  But  aren't  some  Indians  treacherous?" 
"  Yes,  they  are.     You  have  to  know  when 

to  trust  them  and  whom  to  trust." 
"  Does  Pete  know  our  guide?  " 
"  No,  he  has  never  seen  him  before." 
"  Then  I  would  be  afraid  to  trust  him. 

Before  we  left  home,  Uncle  Reuben  told  us 

not  to  trust  strangers  at  the  railway  stations 

and  on  trains  =     He  said  any  fellow  we  met 


TO  THE  LITTLE  BIG  HORN       359 

who  offered  to  show  us  the  town  was  a  crook. 
How  do  you  know  that  this  Indian  is  not  a 

crook? " 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  can  prove  it  to  you 
before  morning,  but  Pete  and  I  know  that 
we  can  trust  this  old  man  as  safely  as  if  we 
had  known  him  all  our  lives. 

"You  see,  he  will  not  receive  his  two 
pounds  of  tobacco  and  the  red  blanket  and 
the  hunting-knife  before  he  leads  us  to  the 
bank  of  the  Big  Horn  after  daylight.  This 
pay  means  as  much  to  him  as  a  hundred  dol- 
lars to  a  white  man.  And  he  gets  no  pay 
till  he  shows  us  a  good  camp  on  the  river 

bank." 

"  Won't  he  get  ugly  if'  we  don't  like  the 

first  camp  he  picks? " 

"  Don,  how  long  would  he  stay  ugly  with 
four  of  us  armed  like  highway  robbers? " 

"  Highway  robbers?  "  Don  laughed.  " Is 
that  what  we  look  like?  " 

"  The  police  on  Boston  Commons  would 
surely  think  so." 

At  this  point  Hank,  who  had  waited  for 
Don  and  Joe,  brought  word  from  the  guide 


SCO     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

that  the  man  and  the  boy  made  too  much 
talk. 

It  was  some  time  after  daylight  when  the 
guide  pointed  to  a  river  running  swiftly  at 
the  base  of  rocky  cliffs,  and  said,  "  Big 
Horn."  It  was  almost  the  only  thing  he 
had  spoken  all  night,  except  in  answer  to 
questions. 

When  Pete  went  to  a  higher  point  to  take 
a  look  up  the  river  the  boys  followed  him  as 
if  they  had  some  important  thing  on  their 
minds. 

"  Pete,"  asked  Don,  "  what  is  our  guide's 
name?  Hank  and  I  want  to  ask  him  some- 
thing." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Pete.  "  Don't  you 
remember  that  it  is  bad  manners  among  In- 
dians to  ask  a  man  for  his  name?  Just  go 
and  ask  him  what  j^ou  wish  to  know." 

The  boys  were  anxious  to  know  where  the 
fire-boat  was. 

"  We  go  and  see,"  said  the  Crow.  "Maybe 
I  tell  you." 

He  and  the  boys  had  no  sooner  arrived  at 
the  river  bank,  when  he  pointed  south  and 


TO  THE  LITTLE  BIG  HORN      361 

said:  "  Fire-boat  go  up  that  way.  Make  big 
wave  here." 

When  they  had  ascended  the  high  bank 
again,  Pete  had  coffee  and  breakfast  ready 
and  the  Indian  enjoyed  another  good  meal 
of  white  man's  food,  but  he  could  not  be  per- 
suaded to  go  up  the  river  with  them.  So 
Joe  paid  him  for  his  services  and  very  soon 
he  departed  the  way  they  had  come. 

The  object  of  the  two  men  and  their  boys 
was  now  to  overtake  the  steamer  Far  West 
that  had  gone  up  the  Big  Horn. 

They  travelled  with  great  caution,  for 
they  were  aware  that  they  were  still  in  a 
dangerous  coimtry,  although  they  did  not 
meet  with  recent  Indian  signs.  Toward  the 
southwest,  however,  they  saw  smoke  as  of  a 
big  Indian  camp. 

During  the  greater  part  of  the  day  they 
lay  in  concealment  in  a  ravine  near  the  river 
and  earlv  next  morning  thev  reached  the 
steamer  tied  up  to  an  island,  where  the  Little 
Big  Horn  from  the  east  enters  the  Big 
Horn. 

To  the  questions  of  the  whereabouts  of 


362     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

Terry  and  Custer,  the  men  on  the  steamer 
could  give  but  little  more  information  than 
the  old  Crow  guide  had  given  to  Joe  and 
Pete. 

Custer  with  the  Seventh  Cavalry  had 
marched  south  from  the  mouth  of  the  Rose- 
bud on  Thursday.  Terry  and  Gibbon  had 
gone  south  up  the  Big  Horn,  about  thirty 
miles  west  of  the  Rosebud. 

Captain  Marsh  had  orders  to  wait  with  the 
boat  at  the  mouth  of  the  Little  Big  Horn 
and  he  was  now  at  that  place.  Heavy 
smoke  had  been  seen  to  the  south  on  Sunday 
and  Monday. 

It  was  now  Tuesday  morning,  the  27th  of 
June.  The  smoke  had  disappeared.  The 
general  opinion  was  that  Custer  and  Terry 
had  caught  the  Indians  in  camp  and  had  de- 
feated them;  but  no  messenger  had  arrived 
at  the  boat. 

It  was  a  beautiful  summer  day,  and  the 
men  and  soldiers  off  duty  had  begun  fishing 
from  the  island. 

While  Captain  IMarsh  and  some  officers 
were  discussing  how  easy  it  would  be  for  In- 


TO  THE  LITTLE  BIG  HORN      36 


ofi3 


dians  to  fire,  from  thickets  on  the  banks,  at 
fishermen  and  steamer,  a  big  Indian,  almost 
naked,  holding  his  gun  over  his  head  as  a 
sign  of  peace,  suddenly  rode  out  of  the  wil- 
low thicket  on  the  river  bank. 

Captain  Marsh  and  the  officers  at  once 
recognized  him  as  Curley,  a  Crow  Scout, 
who  had  gone  with  Custer. 

Curley  showed  the  greatest  excitement, 
but  unfortunately  he  could  not  speak  a  word 
of  English  and  nobody  on  board  understood 
Crow,  but  everybody  saw  that  he  had  impor- 
tant news. 

One  of  the  officers  gave  him  a  pencil  and  a 
piece  of  paper. 

Curley  lay  down  flat  on  the  deck,  drew  a 
circle  and  filled  it  with  dots. 

Then  he  drew  a  larger  circle  around  the 
first  one  and  after  he  had  made  many  dots  in 
the  space  between  the  two  circles,  he  pointed 
to  the  inner  circle,  and  exclaimed  wildly: 
"Absaroka!  Absaroka!  Absaroka!"  Then 
he  pointed  to  the  outer  circle  and  said: 
"  Sioux,  Sioux,  Sioux!  " 

Then,  springing  to  his  feet,  he  called  out : 


364    THE  THREAT  OF  SITTINa  BULL 

"  Poof,  poof,  poof.  Absaroka !  "  made  signs 
of  shooting  while  he  pointed  at  his  breast, 
and  then  at  his  scalp  lock,  and  made  the  ges- 
tures of  scalping  and  of  a  Sioux  scalp  dance. 

"Absaroka!"  exclaimed  Captain  Marsh. 
"  I  know  what  that  means!  It  is  the  Crow 
word  for  both  their  own  people  and  for  sol- 
diers." 

It  was  clear  now  to  everybody  that  there 
had  been  a  great  battle,  in  which  many  sol- 
diers had  been  killed. 

When  Curley  grew  a  little  more  calm,  he 
tried  to  tell  by  signs  the  story  of  the  great 
battle. 

There  had  been  a  big  fight,  in  which  thou- 
sands of  Sioux  surrounded  Custer  and  his 
men. 

Curley  had  been  in  the  thick  of  it,  and 
when  he  saw  that  all  was  lost,  he  took  two 
blankets  and  tried  to  persuade  Custer  to 
come  away.  Custer  refused  to  leave  his 
men,  but  asked  Curley  to  escape,  if  he 
could. 

Curley  then  pulled  a  blanket  over  his 
head,  so  as  to  hide  his  Crow  scalp  lock,  and 


TO  THE  LITTLE  BIG  HORN      365 

in  this  disguise  he  mixed  in  with  the  Sioux. 
There  was  so  much  noise  and  excitement 
that  the  Sioux  failed  to  recognize  him. 
Gradually  he  worked  to  the  outer  edge  of 
the  madly  excited  Sioux  hordes  and  escaped 
into  the  sheltered  valley  of  the  Little  Big 
Horn. 

Here  he  had  concealed  himself  during  the 
hours  of  daylight,  and  by  travelling  do^vn 
river  with  the  greatest  caution  he  had 
reached  the  boat. 

The  distance  from  the  battlefield,  it  was 
found  later,  was  only  eleven  miles,  and  Cur- 
ley  had  been  forty-four  hours  in  reaching 
the  steamer. 

As  far  as  could  be  made  out,  Curley  re- 
ported that  Custer  and  his  whole  regiment 
were  killed. 

Captain  Baker,  in  command  of  the  sol- 
diers on  the  boat,  could  not  believe  the  awful 
story,  and  tried  to  send  Curley  back  with  a 
message  to  Custer;  but  Curley  refused  to 
leave  the  steamer. 

The  Crow  was  known  as  a  brave  and  reli- 
able scout,  and  there  was  no  longer  any 


366     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

doubt  that  a  great  calamity  had  befallen  the 
soldiers  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry. 

Curley  refused  to  take  food,  but  squatted 
in  a  corner  of  the  deck  and  began  to  sing  the 
death-song  of  his  people. 

The  next  morning,  on  Wednesday,  a  white 
scout  of  Gibbon's  command,  known  as  Mug- 
gins Taylor,  stumbled  on  the  boat,  while  he 
was  being  hotly  pursued  by  Indians.  From 
him  the  men  on  the  steamer  soon  learned  the 
awful  story  of  Custer's  last  fight. 

Custer  had  struck  a  big  Sioux  camp  on 
the  Little  Big  Horn  on  Sunday  afternoon, 
the  25th  of  June,  and  had  at  once  prepared 
to  attack,  the  only  thing  he  could  do. 

He  divided  his  regiment,  as  he  had  done 
on  the  Washita,  into  three  battalions,  one 
under  Benteen,  one  under  Reno,  and  one  of 
about  200  men  he  led  in  person. 

Reno  was  attacked  by  so  strong  a  force  of 
Sioux  that  he  failed  to  push  the  attack  and 
retreated  to  a  strong  position,  while  all  his 
Ree  scouts  fled. 

The  Sioux  now  left  Reno,  and  all  their 
warriors  attacked  Custer.     They  very  soon 


TO  THE  LITTLE  BIG  HORN      367 

completely  surrounded  his  battalion,  and 
every  man  was  killed,  including  Custer  him- 
self, and  his  young  brother,  Boston  Custer. 

Shortly  after  midnight  on  Thursday 
morning  some  fifty  wounded  soldiers  were 
brought  to  the  steamer  and  all  hands,  in- 
cluding Joe  and  Pete  and  their  boys,  made 
the  wounded  men  as  comfortable  as  possible, 
while  Surgeons  Williams  and  Porter  exam- 
ined and  dressed  their  wounds. 

The  wounded  men  belonged  to  the  com- 
mands of  Reno  and  Benteen. 

From  Custer's  own  command  no  white 
man  escaped  alive,  but  a  badly  wounded 
horse,  Comanche,  was  brought  to  the  boat 
and  recovered. 

How  Comanche  escaped  being  killed  or 
captured  has  remained  a  mystery.  He  was 
kept  and  cared  for  by  the  Seventh  Cavalry 
as  long  as  he  lived,  but  no  man  ever  rode  him 
again  after  the  battle  on  the  Little  Big 
Horn» 

The  steamer  Far  West  took  the  wounded 
men  to  Fort  Lincoln. 

The  boat  reached  Bismarck  on  the  fifth 


268     THE  THEEAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

of  July  and  from  there  the  story  of  Custer's 
last  fight  with  the  Sioux  was  telegraphed  to 
St.  Paul  and  New  York. 

Joe  and  Pete  with  their  boys  returned  to 
the  Yellowstone  in  company  of  some  soldiers 
and  arrived  at  Bozeman  about  a  week  later. 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Pete,  as  they 
entered  the  store  of  Thomas  Stamford. 
"Thank  God,  we  came  through  it  all!  It 
was  the  most  dangerous  journey  in  all  my 
life." 

"And  I  pray,"  added  Joe,  "that  the 
greatest  of  all  Indian  wars  may  soon  be 
over!  The  Sioux,  although  they  are  sav- 
ages, are  a  brave  people,  who  deserve  to  own 
in  our  great  country  a  home,  where  they  may 
live  in  peace  and  learn  to  travel  the  white 
man's  road." 

Much  has  been  written  of  Custer's  Last 
Fight.  The  story  of  Curley  has  been 
doubted,  but  it  is  most  likely  that  this  only 
surviving  eye-witness  of  the  battle  on  Cus- 
ter's side  told  a  true  story. 

It  has  been  claimed  that  Custer  brought 
disaster  to  his  troop  by  disobeying  the  orders 


TO  THE  LITTLE  BIG  HORN      369 

of  General  Terry.  This  is  not  the  place  to 
judge  a  man  who,  both  in  the  Civil  War  and 
in  years  of  fighting  savage  Indians,  risked 
his  life  many  times,  and  filially  laid  it  down 
at  the  call  of  duty  on  the  Little  Big  Horn. 

The  battle  has  often  been  called  a  mas- 
sacre. It  was  not  a  massacre.  It  was  a  fair 
fight  between  the  soldiers  who  attacked  and 
the  Sioux,  who  defended  their  village,  and, 
as  they  believed,  their  country  reserved  to 
them  by  a  solemn  treaty.  It  may  be  that 
the  treaty  of  1868  should  not  have  been 
made,  but  it  was  made. 

The  Sioux  of  the  present  day  have  begun 
to  travel  the  "  white  man's  road."  It  has 
been  a  hard  road  and  a  hard  school  for  them. 
Like  most  North  American  Indians,  they 
have  been  compelled  to  emerge  from  the 
Stone  Age  into  the  Age  of  Steel  and  Steam 
within  a  few  centuries  or  even  decades. 

It  has  taken  the  white  race  several  thou- 
sand years  to  pass  over  the  same  road  and 
through  the  same  school. 

In  the  clash  of  races,  the  Indian  has  earned 
our  admiration.     There  is  now  no   Sioux 


370     THE  THREAT  OF  SITTING  BULL 

camp  where  a  white  man's  life  is  not  as  safe 
as  in  his  own  town.  In  the  great  World 
War  the  young  men  of  the  Sioux  nation 
fought  in  the  same  trenches  with  the  grand- 
sons of  the  Seventh  Cavalry.  In  all,  about 
10,000  Indians  enlisted  in  the  World  War 
and  proved  their  valor. 

There  will  be  no  more  wars  between  white 
men  and  red  men. 

On  the  battle-ground  on  the  Little  Big 
Horn  a  monument  has  been  erected  to  Cus- 
ter and  the  men  of  his  battalion.  The  monu- 
ment will  become  a  shrine  and  the  battle- 
ground a  place  of  pilgrimage  to  those  who 
would  do  honor  to  the  men  whom  duty  called 
to  do  battle  against  the  most  formidable 
hosts  of  the  Sioux. 


THE  END 


GENERAL  LIBRARY 


938468 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


